Snitch? Who me? Try Victim...

My father
John Stanley

My prison number is 477369. On December 17, 2004, I was loaded on L. Brooks Patterson big white bus and taken to prison by Deputies Deavers and Nagi of the Oakland County Sheriff's Department. I went to prison, because me brother is a drug dealer, but not really, because they convicted him without one ounce of cocaine, heroine or any other illegal substance. Just went to his house, tore the security door off his front door and raided his home. I know what raids are, because when I was six or seven, the Pontiac Police would raid our house if my father ever came to visit. My father, like my brother was a drug dealer, too. Except, when he was arrested, he turned on all his friends. Friends from Pennsylvania, Ohio, New York and even California. My mother said that one time, my father had been down to Cuba, too. At 12, I had no idea what a snitch was. I just thought that my uncle, an attorney for 38 years when he died in 2010, had done some kind of magic and gotten my father off. He did 18 months in the Oakland County Jail (OCJ) and died in obscurity. Strong out on crack, a home that he had his children, not me and my siblings, my mother got away from him a long time before. His new woman and her children, lived in a condemned houses, with no real hot water and rats living in the floor boards.

I'm going to say that, because none of them talk to me either. I used to have long conversations with my little sister, who is 43 now. She is a very smart woman, who can put up with a lot. Mainly, because she lived with my father, and nothing can get harder than that. Ask my mother, who put up with it so long that she put him out! Their mother, was somehow captivated by his poverty and charm and stayed with him, until he took his last breath at 46 years old, about 9 days shy of his 47th birthday. He had used so much heroine and cocaine that he had destroyed his body. No matter what the Feds had to offer him, he was too sick and tired to do anything with it and lived a horrible last years of his life. My brother took his ways, and in 1998, almost 20 years ago, got his own indictment. Charges were dropped, charges re-instated and he now resides, for 16 years in the Michigan Department of Corrections (MDOC). I have not seen my brother in 16 years. Not since the morning he went off to court. I talk to him on a regular bases, only when I'm actin right. Since, I started acting human these last few months, he hasn't called in about seven days. When he does, we argue, because I'm acting human.

This is where I take my life into my own hands, and my freedom, too. Law enforcement can care less about me, most of them feel gratified with my doing time, because my father never got the time he deserved. Sadly, none of them have either! When I say that I'm acting human that means I'm either jealous, longing for friendship or have fallen for another man. Something I think I've done four or five times, since this whole thing got started. See, I'm supposed to be stupid and in love with my victim, Steve Wittebort. The reason Deavers and Nagi took me up to Scott's in the first place. The plan goes, that I am supposed to spend four years in prison for stalking him. Another three years in jail for stalking, Val Gross and another year and a half for stalking him, again. Then I wait another five years, my brother gets out of prison and we get married. In those 17 years, I'm not supposed to develop any kind of feelings for another man, date a man, kiss a man. When I do, I'm acting human and subject to the type of torture that rivals any water boarding incident at Guantanamo Bay. Except, it is all mental, and not physical. I wreak of the torture of those who have kidnapped my life and who tell me who and when to love a man.

I am in the throws of loving another man, right now. I'm trying to get over him, and it's taking a little time. Steve Wittebort and his law enforcement friends, have alienated this man from me, and wants me to think that he doesn't want me, because I'm a snitch, not because of any torture tactics that they have caused him in his life. To get into details to heavy, would name his girlfriend, who I have total disregards for, but respect, because that's what he asked me to do. Steve Wittebort let it "slip" to her grandmother, a diva on the church seen that I could possibly be going after her grand-daughter's man. Who in most people's eyes is a good catch, but who Wittebort and his friends try to convince me is a dead beat. I know a sorry man when I see one, and due to this man's goals and aspirations, he is not a deadbeat. A little over zealous, but not a deadbeat. Brenda Carter and her camp during the election, made remarks about his in ability to work closely with children. I question her ability to work closely with one child in particular.

From day one, "they" knew that she would be the winner. They pushed me towards her and her brand of politics. I got involved with her, too. But never really liked her form of politics, because she is a true politician. I instead latched on to what was real in my opinion and moved the last two months in that stead. Although so many of my choices have been taken away. Mainly. who and who not I can be in a relationship with, I keep all my other thoughts and ideas for me. I ask myself, everyday, if God did bless me with a successful pregnancy or IFV treatment, could I raise a child to respect herself. Because one day, someone will tell her my story. Some low-down mind killer, would reveal to my child these struggles. "Your Momma went to prison, because of your father!" They would say, and send me to explaining the why, to how I love a man so much that caused me so much pain? Then ask her to go out into life and not do the same thing. Not allow a man to treat her with so much blatant loathing and disrespect that he would sit in a court of law and lie on her, and with the same zeal claim to love her so much. He calls it acting. I call it an act of a traitor that has no regard for my feelings, my heart or ability to see when she is being played. Because during the indictment in 1998, he pointed at me and stated, "You know, I know you!" So, why is it so horrible to know me, now? But I digress...

I digress, because they won't let me see my brother. I digress, because my mother wants him home. I digress, because if I don't want Steve Wittebort, they might not let my brother come home. My mother believes that, because the police take care of their own. If I part ways with Wittebort, then they could expose my brother to torture, too. He's in Jackson and there is nothing we could do. Nobody could stop them from messing with my brother. Just like nobody could stop them from sending me to prison for something I didn't do. Wittebort claims that he would have gone to prison, because they could say that my contact made him a "dirty cop", whatever that is. They all are filthy as far as I am concerned. Even the ones that helped me through my storms, because none of them wants me to mention their names. Because that would mean that they would be targeted. So, let them mess with the innocent one. Although I here, because I'm guilty of something. Life isn't fair, look at her, she's sitting in jail and she hasn't done anything to anyone. Not to mention the skunks, the trash in front of my house and the litany of other contrived harassment. It's been 20 years, the cops on my brother's case are old, retired or dead!  Nobody cares about me, but Wittebort. My relationship with him and my fear of others is feeding all of this madness! I can't let that happen to me. I was never given a choice!

For these men, who Wittebort has given the chance to love me, they think "Well, he claims to love her. Look what he has done. He has ruined her entire life. What would he do to me?" I have to admit that makes sense. I had to tell the last guy what happened to the men before him, because my conscience had to give him a clear choice. I miss him so much. He's so smart and able to carry my unique and equally intelligent mind-set, but Wittebort and his friends have driven him away. Just like Karr at the jail. Tillery at the prison. Terrance at school. Vince at the store, which they literally closed down. The police knows all your secrets and rest assured, they can get rid of anyone's troubles at anytime. Believe me, Robert Mueller knows exactly what Trump and his cronies did. What the problem is, is that they have to build a case. That takes time and is painstaking, but necessary. I don't see how my spending a lifetime with a man who has no idea what love is, to love me and put that display on for the world. I don't see any use for that at all in my life. What I see as "Poetic Justice" is my suing him for all my troubles, him spending an amount of time in prison, getting out and marrying me. That way, we are "Even Steven". Anything less than that, and I look like a fool. Other men think it's loyalty, but I think it's foolish.

So, with this latest man Wittebort had some problems; of course. The new man's car isn't as new as mine. So, what does he do? He causes my bank to stop making the payments on my car. Forever, I knew he was in my account at USAA. I did everything that I could to stop him, but to no avail. His "friends" have some kind of access that won't let me win. So, when I discovered him on Facebook kissing another woman, and left him for real the 10th or 11th time, he wanted me to lose my car. There were talks about this person's relationships with people in his life that were being exploited. But you ruined a whole life, my life, and because of your need to remain free, continue to put me down to people. He had someone go into the store they closed down and tell that man I was crazy, because he couldn't take it anymore. I had to stop patronizing that store; or else. Police's unreasonable nature, equals that of a criminal that doesn't understand why murder is a bad idea. If I tell you the rest, you may figure our who the new man is. I'll just keep it moving, because I want to save his image. Because who wants to be an animal in a circus?

Snitch? Who me? No, try victim of a systematic organization who will protect its own at any cost. As long as Wittebort lives by their rules, and do things the way they want him to do them. I'm a pond, and a tool in their game. The pure thing that exudes innocence that just isn't that, anymore. The other night, the man that started my whole plight, came into my work. I respectfully, was hospitable and gave him a hug. We spoke and I asked him about his children. I had met 16 years ago. He had told his sister, Pontiac Police that I was stalking their brother in 1991. This is where this is all coming from. All of this stalking mess. This man who I was cordial to, even if I should have turned my back and walked away. He was planted there, and on the next day, I was trolled on national television about the conversation we had. He told "them" he felt threatened in some way, because I knew he had a child about 15. First, who am I stalking? Am I stalking him or his brother? I'm not stalking anyone, but I need him to make up his mind. If he thinks I'm stalking him, I want him to keep this in mind, he and his brother's penises are small and unworthy of stalking, all together. 

Secondly, don't be mad, because I was in the room, when you said you were going to get $1,500 from the dope man. Don't be all in your feelings for making that mistake and ruining my entire life. Furthermore, the reason I remember your child is because it was a preemie. You were so dumb enough not only to have your premature baby in a nasty Walmart basket at a few weeks old, but your wife out shopping when as my mother said about Beyonce, "She was wide open". That's what my mother said about Bey, when she and Jay-Z went out five days after the birth of Blue Ivy. Nobody cares about you, your drug dealing sister or anyone in your family. It's been 27 years, and thanks to you 17 of them have been hell. I think his "elevator doesn't go all the way to the top", anyway. I get that from Wittebort, he said that about me one day in court. Likewise, another man with a small penis told me that the new man was "scared". Well, you never was, when you took me out, turned up the TV and called your pregnant girlfriend so she wouldn't "worry". Then proceeded to give me the worst sex I think I ever had. For me it doesn't get any better than this! (Crying laughing emoji, eye rolling emoji, cool shades emoji) He hacks my Facebook and makes it seem like the new man is running from me. "They" own social media, and watch what you post! Most of my "friends" are snitches, anyway.

So, for all you real snitches who don't want to relate to me. Who don't want to be seen with me outside of City Hall, take that! You've been caught, not me, and you've signed your life away; not me. This is the truth and this is my story. I have never signed a contract, or agreed to be anyone's snitch. I've been dragged through the dirt for no reason, but that I love my brother. To Kermit Williams, who is angry that I didn't have a job. You are more than welcome to get on welfare and get so far in debt with student loans that you run out and owe your college $1,000 to graduate. That's how you drew first blood and got that blog written about you! Mind your own business...Frog! Your more than welcome to work at Meijer, when you have the brain power to be able to do so much more. To all of you who snitch and do what snitches do and make my life miserable. Who sit at a table and run good men away. You are more than welcome to see me anyway you want to, but remember, God is watching you. He will hand out his punishments as so duly deserved. He surely has dealt them out to me, and I don't even understand the punishment. But maybe it's not mine, just maybe it's someone else's punishment. Stay tuned...