Stage 3 I suddenly felt the urge to get out of the bus. Now. I jolt myself up, walking towards the front of the bus. I rush down the steps, and step onto concrete. Concrete. I turn my head to look back at the bus, which is no longer there. Instead, was a concrete wall. I turn a 360, examining the room, which I then discovered was a jail cell. Great. I walk towards the bars, gripping them, trying to see if what lays beyond them. More cells, and even a stair case which leads upstairs. Which probably holds more cells. Fortunately, there was no one in the cells. But that could be a bad thing. Being alone, stuck in a jail cell for no reason would suck. I then set it in my mind that I wanted to escape. I turn back to the room and rummage through it. There had to be something. Right? After minutes of looking later, I came up empty handed. There was nothing in this room to help me escape. I suddenly find myself at the bars again, yelling something. I back away. I didn't even remember walking towards the bars, or even thinking of yelling. Then I scream out, “LET ME OUT OF HERE!” I hadn't mean to say that. Or say anything for that matter. I begin to shake the bars, hoping maybe, just maybe, one of them would come loose. Then, I was on the bed, sitting. Once more I had not even remembered walking over to sit on the bed at all. Dazed, I stand up, walking towards the bars again. Usually there was an exit, or at least somewhere to go. But now, there was no door, no path. Just me, and a cell. Now, I can only hope and pray that something happens. Maybe I can escape. Maybe there is just something I'm missing, and it's right in front of my face. Whatever it is, it really just doesn't want to show itself to me. I kick at the bars, ... ... middle of paper ... ...o blink or sleep anytime soon. Tap. Another moment passes. It could have been three seconds, or three years. I couldn't tell any longer, which scared me. Tap. Fear and depression drives into me. The thought of being here forever makes me just want to ball up and cry for the next century. If it hasn't been that already. Tap. Unexpectedly, I feel myself sobbing. The scene begins to fail, and sadness overwhelms me. Tap. No escape, this place. Tap. I no longer feel like moving, I just want to sit here. Tap. But I want the crying to stop. I hate crying, but I can't help my self. Tap. I can't escape, so why keep going? I should just sit here... Tap. I want to keep going, but I can't bring myself to do so. Tap. After another timeless forever, I feel the train stop moving. Yet the familiar but unidentifiable tapping, continues. Tap. Tap. Tap.
The next fifteen seconds seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. When I
I am engulfed in darkness; the cage around me is extremely small, and I’m forced to
First you walk into the room with the guard sitting behind the window and wait for him to buzz us in. Then you walk into the visiting room where there was grey square plastic tables and black chairs. At the front of the room was a guard siting at the table watching over all of the visitors and inmates. Then in the back of the room there was two bathrooms, one for the visitors and the other for the inmates. My family and I are assigned a table and we wait for my dad to come in.
of doors, in the bath or in bed - no escape. Nothing was your own except the few
Imagine. You are alone with your thoughts. There is nothing that can separate you from their unpredictable horrors because you spend 23 hours a day completely alone. In silence you wait, desperate for a chance to leave the four-walled, concrete cell you now call home. These are the conditions of solitary confinement that are still in widespread use throughout America today. Although solitary confinement may seem like the safest way to protect other prisoners, guards and even the inmate himself, it is an inhumane and cruel punishment and it has the opposite effect of what prisons are intended for. .
I climb out through the window of my dormitory and step out into the dark peaceful atmosphere. It will be challenging escaping since there are cameras placed mostly in every corner of each building. Keeping my head up I head south towards the store and away from the dormitory buildings located at the far North close to the electrical field fence that separates us from the normal world. The only way out is through the store’s main gate that lets customers in. As I approach the store’s headquarter, were the leaders and officials are located, my heart raced like a runaway train, going faster and faster every second. I was really doing it. I am really going to escape this maleficent place. I quickly speed up my pace in order to not be seen by the cameras. I turn around a flashlight flashes a few meters away from. I run as fast as I can. My legs aren’t used to this physical work; they’re giving up. The light approaches faster and faster. Then, I feel the touch of someone's hands tackling me down to the floor. It all ends here and I know it for a fact. My mind goes unconscious as an officer carries me back to headquarters. I was fool a to think that I could actually leave this place. No one will ever know the what really goes on inside our
Learn to accept the things you cannot control. By simply accepting and embracing your uncontrollable emotions, you’ll spare yourself the exhaustion and trauma of trying to fight them off.
I had gone. . . to the smoke of cafes and nights when the room whirled and you needed to look at the wall, nights in bed, drunk, when you knew that that was all there was, and the strange excitement of waking and not knowing who it was with you, and the world all unreal in the dark and so exciting that you must resume again unknowing and not caring in the night, sure that this was all and all and all and not caring (13).
Your vocal chords tightened, your breath hitches. The light of your cellphone is the only outlet that keeps you from being fully enveloped by the darkness. Aggressively, your heart thumps in your chest. The tremor in your entire body is violent as footsteps moved through the dark. They move closer and closer until they halt in front of the stall you had occupied. The moment you open your mouth to scream for help there is an abrupt, loud, bang. The force of the impact was strong enough to shake the walls of your stall. You squeak in terror, the surprise has you drop your phone. The device, still lit, slides under the opening of the door. Muddled as your thoughts were, you swiftly crouched down to reclaim it. Your fingers extended, nearly grazing
Not a soul responded, they continued to roll in a bunch of machinery and equipment gear. One of them had already put on a pair of gloves and turned on the bright lights above me. I cringed and closed my eyes at the bright light. There was nowhere to escape to, I was completely tied down and it didn 't look like they were going to untie me anytime soon. I had no control of my own body, nor did I have control of what they were going to do to me, and for that I started to weep.
I roughly made out a bench, which I figured was meant to be a bed, and laid down on it. Now I could see I was in a cell very much like those I saw on all the detective shows. I was right in saying my bed was a bench because that's really what it was. Besides that, in the corner there was a small steel toilet. You would think in this white trash neighborhood I live in they would at least have a decent, clean jail, but no. It was old and damp. Everything smelled metallic. It was one of those places that seemed to always be dripping water from one place or another without any actual water source. What a crappy place. I deserved
minute. You enter a steel cage. You are cut off from all help. You don’t know anyone
Over 2.1 million inmates occupy the cells of prisons in the United States of America (Highest). Since the mid-1800’s, the prison population has almost doubled in size and still continues to grow. The amount of time spent in prison by an individual has also raised from 1993 (Espejo 21). Routines, crimes, and security contain similar structures in all prisons, but some involve worse circumstances and criminals; here is a look into the life of a prisoner.
Now, this, of course, got me into some tight spots (pun intended). At the mere age of 4, I had managed to convince myself that I was ready to lock the bathroom door. Now, this isn’t as simple as it seems, it was that kind of lock that was tiny, slippery and whatnot, but of course, midnight was the perfect time to try a new thing. I was so full of my self-inflated sense of maturity and bravery I got myself stuck. Stuck like someone who is in quicksand and doesn’t know how to escape, stuck like someone behind bars. Stuck, stuck, stuck. Alone locked in, I was a prisoner and my jailer was my own stupidity. I grappled with the lock for minutes upon minutes, not wanting my foolishness to be known to my parents, because then I wouldn’t be the grown girl I had thought I was when I initially locked that door. Unfortunately, the lock just wouldn’t unlock. So like any rational four year old would, I screamed at the top of my lungs as tears flowed down my face, as I saw my life flash before my eyes, forever stuck in a bathroom. My parents, doing what rational parents do when they hear their four-year-old screech at the top of their lungs, ran to me. I wish I could say they got me out, but they couldn’t. A million things they must have tried. They attempted to talk me through unlocking the door, they tried to take out the lock, take down the door, anything and everything. But despite all their efforts, I
When will they be here, when will they be here! That is what I was thinking right before my escape. I had everything perfectly planned out. The beginning of my escape went well. The first part of my grand plan was to make them think that I was just going to sit there and be good for them. So, I sat on my chair content, just waiting. When I heard the big metal scrap pull up outside I slowly started walking to the door. One of the humans always left the door wide open. Then in came the little short one. This was my chance. I bolted to the door. The opening was right there, I could see the light! Then she slammed it closed. She missed my nose by a hair’s length.