Snitching

“As you know, no one over thirty years of age is afraid of tittle-tattle. I myself find it much less difficult to strangle a man than to fear him.” ~ Christina, Queen of Sweden

In prison, being a snitch is a dangerous activity. Tonight I went to a funeral of one of the guys who was knifed in the kitchen as he worked. Our last conversation was how he knew he was not liked and that he was a moving target.

A good number of volunteers came out and surprisingly, a fair number of the men joined us. The priest named the situation for what it was--an act of violence that should not have happened. No one deserves that. One of the guys told me that the knife was pretty long--sounded like a butcher knife. Apparently there was a lot of blood.

One of the other guys saw him stumble out of the fridge, bleeding while he sat there eating a sandwich. He just kept on eating, because he knew that doing anything would mark him as a target. The priest celebrating the mass had gone to the hospital to see him and mentioned he was cut pretty badly. He succumbed to the injury so obviously it was nasty.

You never know when it is your time, not inside or on the street, as they say in prison lingo. May Cosmo be forgiven for all his sins and may he rest in the peace that we all deserve.

Peace,

Suzanne