Journey of Faith

When Satan shows up


When I first came to S unit and was put into medlocks, I was actually by myself, it was kind of boring, yet I enjoyed the quiet after being in a gym makeshift dorm with 48 bunks and no buffer for noise. I used most of that time to read my Bible, pray, and catch up on letters I needed to write. We ate, slept, and had yard right in the area of S unit. We never left that area, unless it was to go to the Dr’s, commissary, church, or another appointment. We couldn’t go to activities like church until we were out of medlocks. Once we were able to go to church, we then went with only people in classification aka “blues”. BTW, the clothing they gave to us in blues was extremely ill fitting. It was definitely meant to be humbling and disgraceful. The pants were torn at the bottoms from being walked on over and over again. The shirts weren’t meant to be tucked in because the sides were cut to be left out; however, we were required to KEEP THEM TUCKED IN. You had to wear undergarments at all times, and a brown t-shirt under your blue button up. The blue shirt had to be buttoned all way to the top except the button by your throat. You didn’t have to wear your state shoes unless you were going to a visit or leaving the facility for an appointment. Therefore, most people buy sneakers. I’m including some photos below that I want you to use as a reference to put into context some of the things I’m going to tell you next. When I was moved out of medlocks, my first cell was at the top of the steps. I was with the original roommate maybe a month until she was classified and moved to general population aka “browns”. The next roommate or cellie we called them was Nini. She was a sweet girl from WV originally. I saw this girl coming across the block with a khimar (pronounced key-mar) on her head. She’s all bubbly and smiling. She was Muslim after marrying her husband. Her and I had the best times together. We were silly, we laughed, we made food together. We even took paper and made them into long cones and taped my ear buds to the pointy end of the cone. Well, they just made decent speakers lol, for jail anyway. She kept having problems with her head covering coming undone. I said couldn’t we take a hook off a bra and sew it on each side so that you can hook it? Now, let me say, I CAN NOT SEW. Well, you learn to do a lot of things in jail, even if it’s coming up with a solution like this one. It sort of worked, but the cloth was too silky. We ended up getting separated because Nini kept putting orange rinds down the toilet. I told her, stop putting stuff in there. It’s going to clog like everyone else’s and then we’ll get separated. Well, it clogged, and we got separated. She put her head down and said, I’m sorry Miss Jodie I should’ve listened to you. She became my neighbor. My next cellie, was Fallon. Fallon and I know each other from talking around the block, in dayroom, or yard. She was happy to see I was her new cellie. Once, she was classified and was transferred to Cambridge springs, my prior cellie Nini left shortly after too. A few days later, the Sargent buzzes my room and pops the door to my cell. He says, “Tierney you’re getting a new cellie.” I get up and see her coming. She looks decent enough. She comes in and I say hi and introduce myself. She makes her bed, and then starts pacing around the room. As you can see from the photos below, the room is not that big and pacing works on my nerves. It makes me feel like I need to do something and amps up my anxiety. Well, she won’t sit down either. She wants to keep standing at the lockers that you can see in the one photo. The lockers are between the table and sink/toilet. There’s not enough room to just stand there and not move. I hear her starting to laugh. I said, “what’s so funny?” She says, “oh nothing I’m laughing at my friends”. (note: I’m thinking she’s kidding or she’s recalling something funny her and her friends did). She keeps asking me when they will call meds. I said, we get meds right after breakfast and in the evening after dinner. Unless you’re diabetic or take something requiring it at an off time. She tells me no, that she gets her meds then. One of the rules is you don’t hit the call button unless it’s for certain reasons. Well, she keeps hitting the button. The one officer said, ask Tierney and she will explain it to you. I said I tried sir. Finally, I talked to the Sargent on the side and told him she’s not taking her meds and she’s arguing with me when I try to explain when it’s time to take them. They obviously felt it was my job to help her, so I needed them to know I wasn’t the asshole here. Next, when you’re in classification part of the process is having school testing done to see what level of education you have. Also, they have you take some psychology tests. One test is about 300 questions, many are the same but asked differently to see how you’ll respond. I’m sure you’ve all seen variations of these tests when you go for job interviews, etc. They give you quite a bit of time to complete the questions. If you don’t, the Psych lady will bring your packet to you, w/ a pencil even for you to finish in your cell. Well, she must have stuck that thing under the door 2-3 times for my cellie to complete it. Finally, one day on the 3rd try, I stopped her and said, “she’s not going to finish that for you. I tried to explain to her what it was for, and it’s needed for her to be classified.” She then asked me why she wouldn’t complete it. I told her, “Because she told me you aren’t giving her enough time to study.”. The poor lady just looked at me dumbfounded. I had to then explain to her that I’ve seen this girl talking to herself, talking to and answering friends that aren’t there. She even answered the phone one day. (We don’t have phones). She thanked me for the info, and I never saw the packet of info again. A few days later, she was standing by the locker, talking to a “friend” when I heard her discussing taking a girl to an alley to beat and rape her. I’m like, “Are you ok?” She says, “yeah I’m just talking to my friends, I don’t know you very well, so I talk to them”. I then ask her if she’d mind sitting in her bunk. 99% of the time, we sit or lay in our bunks. It’s the most comfortable spot. Also, that way you aren’t standing in the way when someone has to get past or go to the bathroom. Not to mention, I can’t get in my locker without asking her to move. A few days, later after listening to her complain about a sore on her foot from her state boot, she finally went to see medical. She got back to the cell and so I asked her how did it go? While it’s not my business I asked because she involved me in the entire process from the time it started hurting including how to write the sick call. So, didn’t I earn the write the ask if she was ok? She climbs up in her bunk (finally!) and she starts talking. I hear her saying things about blind folding “her” and putting a pillow over “her” face. I start praying. I mean praying and putting on the full armor of God praying. I reach up and start to draw a cross under her bunk. As sure as I sit here typing this to you today, when I drew that first line then the second to make the cross, I saw a spark come out of my finger. I pulled my finger away and knew I was dealing with something sinister. I sat on the desk stool (see pic below for reference on how close they are to the bunks). and I calmly said to her (continuously using her name) asking if she was ok. I asked if she needed to talk to someone. I explained to her that she was worrying me and that I understand. WARNING!!!!!! She sat up and learned down towards me. Her eyes were completely black, and I knew this was NOT normal. As a Christian, I knew it was Satan. She then looks at me and says in the most demonic voice I ever heard in person, “YOU NEED TO STOP STICKING KNIVES IN MY PUSSY”. I don’t know what the distance was from that stool to the door where the call button is, but I hit the call button. The Sargent clicks on and says, “I’m busy” and clicks off. I say, ” not today, Satan, not today”. I push the call button again and explain to him that I am in fear for my life, and he needs to open the door NOW. She’s hollering in the background, and I know they can hear her. He pops the door and I rush down the steps. I’m shaking so bad that I can hardly stand still. The officer comes out to meet me and by the grace of God the psych lady comes out at the same time. I tell him everything and the psych lady tells him some things and he tells me to please go back up to my cell and he’ll have her moved. I look at him and don’t ask but state-I’m going back up but I’m NOT closing the door. He chuckles and says that’s fine. She was gone a few minutes later. Thank you, Lord, for being my Rock, my Fortress and my protector. You are my shield and buckler Psalms 91.#Prison, #Gods Grace, #Gods Protection, #inmate, #DOC