A nightmare is defined as a bad
dream or a bad subconscious experience. Can you even imagine living out your worst nightmare? I can. I have been living out mines since July 14, 2011. It stared on a Thursday around 1: 22 pm. That was the
day I was arrested for four charges of which I did not commit. When I was first
accused of four counts of sexual assault I kind of took it as a joke.
Things got serious pretty fast.
My accuser story had changed four times in two days. First I was accused of swatting my hand but missing her
butt. Then I was accused of trying to have sex with her, of having
sex with her,
then of having sex with her four times. These was just the beginning of her many lies. Each time her step father would call me accusing me of even worse things than before. Her mother told me it didn’t matter if I done it or not she was
still going to send me to jail for it.
She said "You want be able to be around your own kids
whenever you do get out of jail" I knew then what I had to do. I told them not to
call my phone anymore. Early the next morning I went to the mesquite, TX police station
to inform them on what was going on. What guilty
man does that? Three whole days later my
accuser and her parents done the same thing.
My accuser outcry witness was her best friend. In her police report she wrote
"The story she told me and the one she told my mom was not the same. Her story had changed" You would think that would make the detective question her more but he didn't. I was a 220 Ibs muscular black man. In his opinion I was guilty without him having to
do any real work. 24 days after my wedding I was arrested. I made bail a month later. I realized then that I had loss everything I had worked so hard to obtain. My car, job, money and respect from others was all
gone. Even the respect I had for myself had
faded away. Unable to find another
job I had to sit at home and depend on my wife to financially take care of
everything. I felt like a penny with whole in it, worthless.
My beautiful wife end I had just got married
that June. We was supposed to be in that newly-wed phase but instead I was fighting my suicidal thoughts. I was constantly thinking of ways to kill myself. I was a little confused
even though I knew exactly what I wanted, if that makes sense at all. I knew that I wanted to die but wasn't sure how. I
wanted to feel something
so it couldn't be painless. Neither did I want it to be to painful of a death. I would keep to
myself and sit in my apartment alone in the dark. Eventually I started running sharp razors up and down my
flesh cutting the skin. Each time I would cut deep enough to draw blood, later I would hope my wife would not notice the scars. She never did. This behavior was completely
out of character for me.
I could only sleep four hours a day. Those four hours was spread throughout the day. Inside my mind I couldn’t even find a place to rest. There is no prison like the prison one can place his self. I
was slowly falling to pieces. A few major events happened and I was finally push over
I grew up without nice clothes and shoes so I promised my
kids they would never have to go through that. Once I had to use tape
to prevent the sole of my shoes from fa11ing off. I was visiting my
youngest daughter where she lived with her mother. She was playing
with some kids outside while I watched her. I love to see her
beautiful smile. I notice something wrong with her right shoe so I
called her over. I said "Baby girl, what’s that on the side of your shoe?" I
could tell she was embarrassed because her beautiful smile had faded
"that’s my sock" then she stuck her sock back into the whole.
I felt like a failure.
I turned my back to her because I didn't want her to see
me cry. The false charges wasn’t only affecting my life but the life
of my love ones as well. All I had was sixty dollars to my name an I
bought her a pair of shoes with it. She deserved it. Seeing my baby
shoes made me want to fight. I searched Facebook until I found a profile picture of a
guy I knew my accuser would
like. I contacted her using that guy name and told her where she could
go see a photo of me(him). Her social media page was full of life.
Selfies, vacation pictures and pictures of her hanging with friends
filled her page. Here she was living her life while I was barely
existing. She seemed not to have a worry in the world while I had the
weight of the world on my shoulders. Every conversation I
had with her I recorded. I wanted to use them to prove my innocence
when I went to trial. After two days I asked her to tell me a secret.
She said "I've been sexually assaulted three
times" then she went on to tell me how each one had happened. I
had caught her in multiple lies. Her statement to the police stated
that she had been assaulted four times not three. The details of one
of the assaults was the same as the police report. A true rape victim
would remember if it happened in the bathroom standing up or laying
down on the bed. Trying to remember a lie you told in the past becomes
harder to remember with time. I tried to convince myself that I would
soon have my life back but who was I kidding. Getting my life back was
like trying to remember a love that I never had. It wasn't going to
happen. Too much mental damage had been done. No one can completely
understand what an innocent man goes through when he is accused of a nasty crime like I was. I was still stressing and couldn't sleep longer than
thirty minutes at a time.
Feeling thirsty I got out of bed to go get a bottle of water. When I walked
out of the bedroom almost bumped into my mom She said " Baby boy,
it aint over with jet Things are gonna get a whole lot worse"
loss all hope as I sat down on the floor and cried. I was 15 years old when I got the news. Two of my uncle’s picked my brothers and I up from a
group home we was in at the time. They told us we was
having a family reunion. Since we have never
had one we was pretty excited. Hours later we was given the bad news.
My uncle said "I need to talk to you boys. We not gonna have a family reunion but we are gonna: have a family get together. Someone want make it
though. Its yall mom. Some guy tried to rape her but she fought him off. He returned with a
12gauge shot gun 5 years later after seeing my mom in my apartment I started doing some
research. Hours later I found
a newspaper article on her
death. I had been lied to this whole time. Not only was she unable to fight him off but she was
sodomized, raped and then murdered. I was devastated.
When my wife got home I told her ab out my mom coming to
visit me. The things I had been telling her over
the past few days left her questioning my mental stability. The next day she came home on her lunch break and wanted to talk. She said "Baby I love you I do but you're stressing
me out. I can't even focus on my work because I’m worried I’m
going to come home and find you dead. Can you keep the
things you are hearing and seeing to yourself?"
I wanted to speak because there was so much I needed to say. At the same time I didn't want to stress her out anymore. I simply just nodded my head. She eventually got fed up
with the depressed guy sitting on the couch putting on a fake smile
when she came home. Slowly she was turning her back on me. She had
been the glue holding me together with her optimistic views but now I
was falling apart.
Pressure burst pipes so try to imagine what an explosion
would do. A massive eruption was about to happen
and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Finally reaching my
breaking point I snapped and killed my accuser. It was like the
person I knew myself to be had been deleted. I stood outside my body watching myself do things I wouldn't do under any other circumstance. I was charged with capital murder when it should been
changed with crime of passion.
One of the ADA on my ease said "what he done while
out on bond was like him spitting in the
justice system face" I knew this was the real reason I was being
charged with capital murder. The law states that capital murder is supposed to serve as
a deterrent. Meaning by killing me will prevent
others from doing what I had done. A man in my situation is
not thinking about the law when he has become mentally and emotionally
detached. what I needed was some professional help. 14 months later I was found guilty of capital murder and
sentence to death.
I walked onto Texas death row on
November 20,2013. I was expecting to see the other inmates acting like wild animals. From the outside
listening in I heard nothing but bad things about death row inmates. We are supposed to be
the worst of the worst. Now that I’m standing on the inside
unable to see out I know those statements
was not true. In handcuffs I was escorted to my
cello I glanced into a few of the cells as I
passed them. No one was standing
at their door trying to see who was the new guy. Once I was alone in my cell I said "I’m on death
row, none of this is real... is it? "
Wanting to believe that I was having a bad dream I closed my eyes then pinched my arm. I wanted to wake up to find out that the last two years of my life had been a nightmare. As I opened my eyes I realized that it was a nightmare but I
wasn't dreaming. Somewhere along my journey I must have got my destiny
confused with someone else’s then picked up the wrong one. How could I go from being happily married, a proud father,
saving to buy a house, willing to help anyone that was
willing to help them self and trying to mentor young boys to death row
inmate #999585. In seconds I had already made my mind up that I couldn't live like this. I formed a noose out of my sheet then I heard a knock on my table. The guy next to me was trying to get my attention. I put the noose on my bed
then looked through the slim split on the left side of my door. I was able to see an eye looking back at me.
I said "What's up?"
"My name is
Prieto" he said "Let me give you some advice. If you value your life it's best you start fighting now. Don't wait to the last
minute like I did. This time next year they might be trying to put that needle in my arm" In a hour the guys in my section had sent me
so much stuff that my locker box was almost full. I didn't realize it at the
time but when I arrived here on death row these guys became my family. For some of us the family
we once had no longer exist. None of these guys had any idea that they had saved my
life just by
talking to me. A year and two months later Prieto was executed on January 21, 2015. God bless the dead.
I finally received the special that I had been waiting on for a month. At this point I had not had any human
contact in two years. Unless you count when I am cuffed and being escorted
somewhere. At that point the officers will hold on
to my arm like in a dog on a leash.
I was locked in this small room with this thin lady after
they took off my cuffs. Everything in me wanted to wrap my arms around
her pulling her into an embrace. I manage to restrain
myself. Two years here has left me desperately needing human contact. I can't imagine how the guys with 20-30
years on their shoulders must feel. I settled for a hand
I came across this in a book I was reading.
Everything has a catalyst. I've learned that
from personal experience. If you was to say that I’m the same
person that I was last year or the year before that then you
would either be naive or lying. I might of agreed with you
before my life started to crumble. People change. That's just what we do. Every experience eroded me like eons of winds and ate through me like water made
canyons through solid rock. Somethimes those
experiences were small. Almost imperceptible changing me in ways I didn't even
notice. Other times those experiences was like a nuclear blast that
reshaped me in an instant. When I finally
realized it the molding process was complete. Whatever the catalyst for change, no one is the same
person they had been.
We was about halfway through the first day when she asked "Do you
"Yeah" I had been trying to
block out the crying for the last half hour. "I wonder what's going on" It was October 5,
2015. Juan Garcia had an execution date for the following day. It was his family member that we heard crying. I said "That guy has a date tomorrow so he's visiting his family" We met again the next day. This time it was the officers walking pass the window in full riot gear that caught our attention. Moments later they was walking by with Juan in cuffs. We locked eyes long enough to nod our head at each other. Those nods said so much.
I never wanted anyone’s sympathy but I do want people to
empathize with me. Call me a hypocrite but for a moment I felt sorry for him. He was ab out to murdered by the state of Texas and it was nothing he could do to
stop it. Most people don't think about dying
because they are too busy
living. On death row we have to face our
reality every single day. I no longer felt sorry for Juan. Suddenly I was feeling sorry for myself. Soon he would have no more stress, worries or pain but I would. He would no longer
have to keep a look out for the reaper peeping into his cell but I do. He would finally be
at peace while I have to continue to live in this hell. God bless the living.
A loud knock on my door woke me up. I opened my eyes to
see a group of officers standing at my door in riot gear. I asked "What's going on?"
"let’s time to go" "time to go where?"
No one would answer me so I knew it wasn't anything good. I was hand-cuffed then they took me over to Huntsville
blind folded. I couldn't see a thing but I could tell
exactly what was going on. I was being strapped down to the same
gurney that had claimed five hundred plus lives before mines. The blindfold was removed before the curtains was pulled back for the viewers
to witness my execution. One side held my victim parents. On the other side it
was empty. Talking about not feeling
loved. Why did I expect my family to show up now when they had not been here this whole time.
My wife made it clear that
she was done with me from the beginning. I guess she could not put her hatred aside for the moment. I had no final words to say. I was ready to put an
end to this nightmare that I been living. Would something be
waiting for me on the other side? I hoped so. People was watching me from all directions. The way they was looking at me made me feel like a rare animal about to give
birth. No one blinked thinking if they did they would miss my final breath. Slowly everything had faded
to black as the poison was pumped into my body.
When I opened my eyes I was laying down inside of a church. I sat up on the table letting my feet
hang over the side. I could feel the poison still flowing
through my body. Feeling a tremendous amount of pain I held my chest while grunting out in
pain. The poison was not done killing me veto I was on borrowed time an sooner or later I was gonna have
to give it back. I covered my mouth with the inside of my elbow and cuffed. That's when I saw the blood. The priest eyes grew big when he walked into the room
“It’s a blessing from god” he cried out with both
hands raised toward the heavens. He rushed to my side "You're suppose to be dead son. Are you ok? I mean
how are you still alive?" "How am I supposed to know that" Actually I did. My journey was not complete just yet. "Well on paper you're dead" He reached for my
hand "Let’s get you out of here before someone see you. Where do your family
live?" We walked out to his station wagon parked in the back so he could
drop me off in Texarkana.
After I was dropped off I got all five of my kids together. First I apologized for leaving them I grew up without a father so I missed out on a lot. I told then quotes of
wisdom like " It's knowledge that
guides you but it's the heart that defines you" and "There is two ways to spread the light. To be the candle or the mirror that reflects it". I answered all the
questions they had for me to the best of my ability then it was
time for me to leave. It was one of the hardest
things lever had to do but I had two more stops to make. I hugged and kissed
both of my beautiful daughters and my three handsome sons.
I walked a good distance before I was able to get a ride to Dallas. As I walked to my next destination I feel over in the grass
and balled up into the fetal position. My stomach felt like
it was being boiled like a pot of gumbo. When the pain subsided I wiped away my tears then I saw that my
tears was blood. I managed to push myself up from the ground then made my way
over to the pay-phone. After I dialed the number someone
picked up the phone on the second ring.
She cleared her throat "hello"
I didn't really know what to say. What do you say to the mother of the person you killed
psychotic break? A break that would only send us both to
an early grave.
She spoke again “hello”
"I ... "who is this?"
I finally found my words "This if Frank. I wanted to-"
"hold on. Frank who?" "Davis. I know it's hard to believe after what you witness this
morning but- She said "Please find someone else to play with"
then she hung
It's a quote that goes "Believe none of what you hear
and only half of what you see" I pressed the doorbell then took
two steps back. I was sure I looked like a mad man
slightly hunched over holding my stomach with traces of bloody tears
on my face. I looked how I felt for
so long ... dead. I said "can we talk" after I saw a finger pull
down the blinds and a huge set of eyes looking back at me. She said: “I have no words for you
but my gun do " then the blinds closed.
I was in a lot of pain but the poison had not affected my
common sense. I walked away from there as fast as I could. I believe everyone has a thin line in the sand. On one side is the things that they will never be able to
forgive. I crossed that line by a few feet. I understand why she could not forgive
me because I could not forgive myself.
Walking into my old apartment
complex I spotted my wife car. I hit the driver side door setting off the alarm. Jaye and I had not spoken to each other in years. The whole situation was too hard for her to deal with. She never mentioned it but I’m sure she felt like some of what had
happened was also her fault. She knew the condition my mind was in when she turned her back on me. Feeling vindictive she took the stand
against to to convince the jury that I was a future danger. She could of prevented me from drowning but
instead she push my head under the water. I hated everything about her as I
watched her lie with a straight face. Those eyes that I use to stare into, I hated them. Her full lips that I loved
to kiss, I hated them to. Most of all I hated
that I still loved her.
Making my way up the steps I heard the ear
alarm turn off. On the final flight of steps I was able to see her face, then we locked eyes. My legs was threatening to give out on
me. She put her hands over her mouth that
was hanging wide open. I was not sure if the
look on her face was terror or shock. I guess in this case
both was one in the same.
Always having a sense of humor I said "would you like
my autograph?" She pulled her hands away from her mouth "The
news said you was dead" "I look it don't I?"
Whatever she was feeling at first was gone. It was replaced with anger. She folded her arms across her chest. "I moved on with my life so what are you doing
here?" I explained to her what had happened in Huntsville and the
different stops I made along my journey before coming to see her. She said "Vou don't expect me to believe that do you? You escaped again didn't you?" I leaned against the rail letting myself slowly slide down
until I was sitting with my legs stretched out in front of me. I took
my right shoe off peeling the bloody sock from my foot. Finally getting off my feet allowed my legs to go
She closed her eyes after seeing the condition my foot was in. She opened then when she heard me grunt out of pain. The pain in my chest and stomach was getting unbearable. Jaye dropped to her knees then held my hand to console me. When I looked into
her eyes they was filled with tears. One by one they begun to fall. Even with all of the pain I was in all
I wanted was to stop her tears from falling. I said "I understand why you turned your back on me. The weight got too heavy to carry. It was too heavy
for the both of us together. I was mad that you lied
in court but I understand that to. I took a life because she had ruined mines. I wanted to hurt her more then she had hurt me. Your hatred caused
you to hurt me as well. I should of accepted that fact that happiness to me is just one big illusion. I’m sorry for leaving you. I forgive you and I hope you can one day find it in your heart to forgive me too. She said "Baby I do forgive you. I love you so
much" She placed her hand on the back of my head then pulled me
to her chest. " Let’s get you inside and get you cleaned up so we
can start all over again. Would you like that?"
It was then that she felt my grip on her hand was limp. I was unable to reply to her
because I was no longer one with my body. I was floating behind her looking down
on her holding my body. All the pain I once felt was gone. She pushed my head back so she could see my face. Black poisoned blood was flowing from my mouth.
When I woke up I realized I was crying in my sleep. Thinking about my dream made me cry even harder. Then I started
crying because I was still in this tiny cell on Texas death row. I thought I was finally free. Living is a difficult and subtle art. Sometimes we don’t get to take those physical journeys
that we can only dream of because reality have restrictions. The subconscious mind allows us to travel unknown distances without any restraints at all. The mind is a
Still to this day I sleep in small intervals. It has been five and a half years since my life has
crumbled. Four of those I been in prison. I don’t think a day has went by
without me thinking of my victim. I don't think about how her lies destroyed my life. I think about her life and the things she would have
accomplished. Would she had played
basketball in college, one of the sports
she loved. Would she had someday became a mother?
Her accomplishments would of been endless. A nightmare is defined as a bad dream or a bad
subconscious experience. But the real nightmares are the ones you
by Franklin Davis
Franklin Davis #999585
Polunsky Unit D. R.
3872 FM 350 South
For a first contact you also can use FranklinDavis@deathrow-texas.com,
please leave a postal address for response. Thank you.