Chapter 3
Alayah
Age Fifteen
“Rodney, please…” I begged in a whisper. “I don’t wanna do this.”
“Ain’t I good to you, Alayah?” he asked, stepping closer to me. “Don’t I spoil you for being my good girl?”
He slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him. I could smell the familiar stench of liquor on his breath. I wanted to throw up. He was delusional if he thought buying me things would make up for what he was doing.
“Answer me,” he demanded, his grip tightening. “Am I not good to you?”
I fought back tears as I answered. “Yes.”
“Don’t I tell you you’re my pretty girl?” His lips fell to my neck.
“Yes.”
“I would never hurt you. I just wanna make you feel good the same way you make me feel good.”
He grabbed my hand and placed it on his crotch, rubbing it up and down.
“I need you to take care of that for me, pretty girl. Take care of me, and I’ll take care of you. Take off your clothes.”
I couldn’t hold back the tears as I slowly backed away from him and began to undress.
This wasn’t right. I was fifteen now, and his visits to my room had become more and more frequent.
I’d long since stopped fighting him off after he almost choked me to the point of passing out.
There was nothing I could do but take it.
I had to lay there with his weight on top of me…
his sweaty skin against mine…his heavy breathing in my ear as he violated me.
I wondered if he said the same nasty things to my mother that he said to me.
I wondered how he could lay up with her after violating me time and time again.
I’d watch him hug, kiss, and grope her like he loved her so much, all the while knowing what he was doing to me.
I watched her serve him like he was some sort of fucking king when he was nothing but a pervert who liked little girls.
“Rodney, please… You’re hurting me,” I begged.
I felt like I was suffocating beneath him. He was being so rough, and it was hard not to scream into the darkness surrounding us.
“It hurts!”
He covered my mouth. Evil eyes bore into mine as I struggled to breathe.
My hands clawed at his as my headboard lightly tapped against the wall.
Forever seemed to pass, and when he grunted, I’d never been so relieved for him to be finished.
He rolled off me, panting heavily. I covered my face and cried silently as the bed shifted and he stood to his feet.
“Stop all the damn crying,” he said harshly. “You might as well get used to this, Alayah. I’m never letting you go.”
“No…no stop,” I screamed.
I popped up in bed, and I could hear the yelling of the inmates around me, telling me to shut up. By now, everyone knew when I was having a nightmare. My screams were so loud that they woke up the whole cell block. I heard my cell door unlock, and in walked CO Judy with her flashlight.
“You good, Chambers?”
I nodded. “I’m sorry. I had a nightmare.”
She shook her head. “I thought those were getting better.”
I wiped my hands to down my face and took a deep breath. “My parole hearing is in a few hours,” I revealed.
“Ahhh. That makes sense. Honestly, I hope you get out of here, Chambers. You never deserved to be here anyway.”
She offered me a warm smile as she backed out of the room and closed the door.
I pushed myself up until my back touched the wall of the cell.
Pulling my knees to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them and rested my head on my knees.
I looked at the pictures of my sisters. I missed them so much.
They were seventeen and fifteen now and had grown into beautiful young women.
I wondered what they were like—if they were happy and healthy. Had what I’d done caused them any severe trauma? My aunt and uncle refused to tell me anything about them that might make me feel bad or trigger me. I appreciated that, but still…I just needed to know.
Maybe if I got released, I could try to repair my relationship with them.
They were old enough to make decisions for themselves.
Then again, Kennedy had forbidden any interaction thus far.
What would stop her from continuing to do so?
She had custody of them, so as far as the law was concerned, what she said goes.
I sat in that same spot until it was time to get up for morning showers.
I could never go back to sleep after one of those dreams. It had been a little while since I had one.
Maybe it was the fact that I would be seeing Rodney’s family today.
Erica told me they were protesting my release, so they would be there.
When I first got here, I got letters from them telling me that they hated me and would never forgive me for what I did. His mother came to visit me once, and I left the visit in tears. She called me everything but a child of God and told me I was going to burn in hell.
She didn’t believe that her son was capable of such vile acts. I wouldn’t wish what he did on my worst enemy, but I prayed that another young girl would come forward and prove that I wasn’t lying. I couldn’t have been the first and only one. I just couldn’t have.
“Chambers!”
The sound of my name being called broke me from my thoughts. I was sitting at the table picking over my breakfast because I couldn’t eat a thing. When I looked up, CO Sellers was standing over me with handcuffs.
“Time to go. Your lawyer is waiting.”
I stood and dumped my tray before holding out my hands to be cuffed. Sellers led me from the cell block, and we made our way to the room where Erica was waiting. When the door opened, she smiled at me.
“Good morning, Alayah,” she spoke.
“Good morning.”
“How are you feeling?”
I shrugged. “I’m here. I don’t have any hope of being released, but I’m willing to try.”
“That’s all I need. We’ve prepared for this. Everything is in place for when you go home because you are going home. I have full faith in that.”
“Is my mother going to be there?”
“I’m not sure. She was given notice, but I can’t be certain that she will show up. Your aunt and uncle are already on their way to the courthouse, though. She sent you some clothes and shoes, too. I’m gonna step out and let you get dressed.”
She pulled out a bag and placed the clothes and shoes on the table. After patting me on the back, she left me with the guard to change. I took a deep breath. Today, my life would change—or it would remain exactly the same for twenty more years.
I stood in the back waiting with the guard for my turn.
My heart raced, and my hands were clammy.
I kept taking deep breaths because I feared I would pass out from nervousness.
Erica was so confident that I was going to be granted parole.
I wasn’t sure what she had up her sleeve, but I had no choice but to trust her.
What seemed like forever went by before it was my turn. When I walked into the courtroom, the first people I laid eyes on were my aunt and uncle. They sat huddled together with hopeful smiles on their faces. Even though they weren’t supposed to touch me, my aunt stood and kissed my cheek.
“We love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too.”
As I went to sit, my eyes landed on Mr. and Mrs. West, who both wore frowns on their faces.
Behind them were a few other family members I’d met while my mother was dating Rodney and a lot I didn’t know.
My heart fluttered thinking I would see her when I looked around the room, but she was nowhere to be found.
Who I did see, however, caused my eyes to widen.
Killian Lake.
I hadn’t seen him since before my arrest, but I would never forget his face.
Time had been good to him. He still looked like the seventeen-year-old boy I used to have study sessions with, just more mature and devilishly handsome in his suit.
He offered me a warm smile. I didn’t return it—just focused my attention on the parole board.
In the middle was the woman I assumed to be in charge.
She was a beautiful black woman who looked like she played no games.
She introduced herself as Andrea Lemon and then introduced her colleagues.
“You may be seated,” she said.
As soon as my handcuffs were removed, I took my seat.
“Good morning. This is a parole consideration hearing for inmate Alayah Chambers, CDC number 290451. Ms. Chambers, are you ready to proceed?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Very well. Ms. Chambers, you are currently serving a thirty-year sentence for the murder of one Rodney West. By our calculations, you have served ten of those years. Can you tell us about the crime you committed?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I slowly stood. Behind me I heard my uncle whisper, “You got this, baby girl.” I took a deep breath before training my eyes on the parole board.
“My mother began dating Rodney when I was twelve years old.
From the moment I met him, he made me uncomfortable.
It was the way he looked at me or the way his touch lingered too long.
He told us—me and my sisters—that he was going to be our new daddy.
He did everything to make us like him or to try to gain our trust, but something about him never sat right with me.
“The older I got, the more I noticed the change in the way he acted toward me. He became very affectionate, always wanting to hug or kiss me or touch me in some way. He made me sit on his lap when I didn’t want to, and when I tried to get up, he would tighten his grip on me.
He would…he would smell me and make inappropriate comments about my body and my looks.
“When I was fourteen, he forced me to drink a cup of moonshine in front of him and his friends. When I passed out, he came into my room, and that was the first time…the first time he raped me—”
“She’s a liar!” Mrs. West screamed, jumping to her feet.
“Ma’am, one more outburst, and you will be removed from this room, do you understand me?” Ms. Lemon asked.
Mr. West guided his wife back into her seat and held her close.
Ms. Lemon turned back to me. “You may continue.”
“Um…that was the first time. After that, he started coming into my room when my sisters were asleep and my mother was working. Sometimes he would just touch me while he touched himself. Other times, he would make me touch him. Most times, he forced himself on me. I threatened to tell, but he said he would go after my sisters next. They were just little girls…I had to protect them. So I took it. For years, I took the abuse so they wouldn’t have to.
“The night…the night I killed him, he came into my room drunk. I was tired…so tired of him doing whatever he wanted to me. I said no, and when he came at me, I grabbed a pair of scissors and stabbed him in the neck. I was terrified that he’d keep hurting me, so I kept stabbing him over and over.
I just wanted him to stop. I didn’t plan to kill him; I just wanted him to stop. ”
I sniffled as I finished telling my story. Repeating those details was triggering me in the worst way. My chest felt tight, and it was getting harder to breathe. I rested my hands on the table to steady myself and my breathing.
“Ms. Chambers, are you okay?” Ms. Lemon asked, her voice full of concern.
“Yes, ma’am. I just…I need a moment.”
“Get her some water.”
A few seconds later, an officer appeared with a cup of water. I thanked him before chugging the entire cup.
“You can do this,” Erica said, gently rubbing my back. “Take some deep breaths.”
I did as she stated, and after a minute or so, my breathing returned to normal. I stood upright and faced the parole board again.
“I apologize.”
Ms. Lemon nodded. “How do you feel about your actions now, Ms. Chambers?”
I paused. “Would you like me to be honest?”
“Please.”
“I am sorry that I had to take a life in order to protect myself and my sisters, but I do not regret it. I wasn’t safe in my own home.
My mother didn’t protect me. My life was in danger, and if I hadn’t protected myself, I was going to continue to be abused or die fighting him off.
I will never apologize for protecting two innocent little girls and choosing to live, even if it meant having my freedom taken. ”
Ms. Lemon looked at the others, then back at me. “So, you accept full responsibility for your actions?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How have you spent your time while incarcerated?”
“I read as often as I can, and I journal. I was able to earn my GED and my cosmetology license. It’s not something I ever dreamed of doing, but many of the women in my cellblock came to me to do their hair for visits or birthday and holidays.
They just wanted to feel beautiful in spite of their circumstances.
I’m glad I was able to help them with that. ”
Ms. Lemon smiled softly. “According to your records, you have been a model inmate—not a single infraction in ten years. How did you manage that?”
I smiled softly. “My cellmate became a motherly figure. She looked out for me and told me how to survive my time. She protected me.” I looked behind me at my aunt and uncle.
“Then there is my Aunt Penny and Uncle Clive. They constantly prayed for me and showed me love from the outside. They are all I have in this world since my mother has cut me off from my sisters.”
Ms. Lemon nodded. She and the other board members took turns asking me various questions such as how my thinking had changed since committing the crime, what was planned if released, where I would live and work, and how I would manage potential triggers or high-risk situations.
Erica had briefed me on the types of questions they would ask, and I tried not to make it sound like my answers were rehearsed.
“Two final questions, Ms. Chambers,” Ms. Lemon said. “First, how do you think your crime impacted the victim’s family?”
I looked over at Rodney’s family. “I know they hate me—I’ve been told such to my face. I can imagine they miss him and still grieve for him, but I grieve for what I lost because of him, too.”
“Why do you think you should be granted parole at this time?”
“Honestly, Ms. Lemon, I don’t have much hope in being granted parole, but I would like to go home before I’m forty-seven years old.
I did a horrible thing in the heat of the moment, but a horrible thing was done to me for much longer.
I fully realize that I committed a crime, but I was a victim.
No one could save me, so I had to save myself.
Ten years in prison is nothing compared to the hell I lived in that house.
I just want a chance to live and be completely free. ”
Ms. Lemon nodded. She spoke briefly with the board members before turning back to me.
“Thank you, Ms. Chambers. You may be seated.”
“Thank you.”
I took a seat, unsure of how to feel. The board’s faces were hard to read, but that was to be expected. Of course, they had to have poker faces in this line of work. I wasn’t sure if I had helped or hurt my case with my candid honesty, but I couldn’t lie. Only time would tell.