Prisoners of War - Chapter 37

Essay by spoonman419 August 2004

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The hole. It's like the punishment room in prison. Unlike solitary confinement where you get your own cell, in the hole you only get four walls. You are stripped down and thrown into the room with no light and only a bucket to piss and **** in. There is only one source of light and that is when the slide on the door opens, which is used to feed the prisoner.

I was thrown right in the hole when I was found, along with most of the leaders of the gangs and a lot of prisoners responsible for the riot. Everyone else were confined to their cells as the entire prison was locked down while the cops regained control and fixed up the place, wiping out prisoner bank accounts to pay for the damages.

I woke up thinking I was blind. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or shut, and I thought I had actually taken enough heroin to make me go blind.

I was still pretty buzzed, and had no idea where I was, or what had happened.

I stumbled to my feet and as slight feeling returned I realized I wasn't wearing any shoes or socks. Feeling around the rest of my body I realized I wasn't wearing anything, and walking to the wall and feeling its hard and cold broken side I realized that I was in the hole.

"****." I said softly letting my arms drop. I tried desperately to see anything, but it was too dark, so I just dropped to the cold hard floor and lay back down. The heroin was still kicking in pretty hard, so it must have still been the morning, and I decided I wasn't going to waste my last high for awhile by worrying about anything.

Meanwhile outside of my cell people were talking. The blacks knew that I killed Evans and the Italians were jumping on this in hopes of allying with them to control the drug trade.

Even with the prison locked down word was able to travel, the blacks were cutting the Irish off, and the Italians had gotten what they wanted, control over the drug trade in this prison. Not only that but the blacks wanted revenge, and whispers began as the race wars unofficially began.

The Irish were pissed, pissed at me and only planned of defense as they knew attacks would be coming. Pissing off the blacks wasn't a very good move for me, seeing as they composed most of the prison population. They wanted me dead for Evans, and the Italians wanted me dead for Tim...who knew how long I would last when I get out of here.

Time didn't exist in the hole...it ceased to be. There was no light, no clocks, and no other sign of human life...the only thing that could possibly give you a hint as to what time it was was the guards feeding you, but when you're in the hole the guards tend to forget every now and then.

Prisoners who are in for serious offenses, such as myself will get fed maybe once a day if I'm lucky...not that I'd miss the food. This whole ceasing of time wasn't a problem while the heroin was still affecting me, but once it wore off it became hell.

The sickness returned pretty quickly this time, as did the thoughts haunting me. First to be prompt was Evens; they found me with him I knew that for sure...so they had me. I would be here for life now...I was never getting out.

Any hopes or dreams of ever getting some sort of life were completely destroyed and I cried, I cried more then I had ever cried in my life...I let out everything that I held in and forced back in order to remain tough because in here it didn't matter.

The cramps came back then, forcing me into a sort of fetal position on the cold hard floor. My crying died off as I realized I needed to get out of here. "Let me out of here!" I screamed crawling to my feet.

I let out a few screams as I found my way to the door and started banging on it. "Let me out! Open the ****ing door someone please!" I begged and screamed for as long as I could stand, and cried again when I was forced back to the ground.

My eyes were finally starting to adjust to the light, and I could barley make out the room. Not that there was much to make out, four walls and the door, with a bucket lying in the corner. I crawled over to it and used it as I tried to figure out what time of day it was.

My first thoughts were that it was at least night, but rethinking it decided it was probably still early afternoon...a minute seemed like an hour...I screamed again as I was hit with an extremely painful headache.

I returned to the center of the room lying on my back and just staring up at the ceiling. I could barley make it out in the darkness, and as I stared I saw patterns start to swirl around in the darkness. My vision flashed and I lost myself watching, almost forgetting the withdrawal.

They didn't make anything recognizable; they were just blobs of light swimming around in the darkness. I wondered again if I was going blind, and if within minutes would my entire field of vision be so white I wouldn't be able to see, and after I thought that the withdrawals came flooding back as paranoia took over.

I jumped back to my feet and started pacing, blinking and rubbing my eyes in an attempt to get rid of the blobs of light. It worked, but in just a few seconds the blobs reappeared, forcing me to blink and rub again. Within a few minutes my eyes were starting to get irritated and watery, as the rest of my body continually felt worse and worse.

Pacing caused the nausea to surpass everything else for now and forced me to rush over to the bucket yet again to vomit. Normally I wouldn't care where I did it in this place, but I wouldn't want to end up laying in it later. Vomiting was noticeably worse then while on heroin, as I heaved my entire chest felt as if it was about to cave in as I gasped for breath.

I cried out in pain rolling over and wiping sweat off my forehead begging for this hell to stop. I didn't know who I was begging since I don't believe in god... but I couldn't stop. "Please let me out!" I screamed in between sobs.

The nausea subsided a bit as I lay there, but the consistent crying kept it from leaving completely. I wiped my running nose while sniffing up the rest and spitting it into the bucket.

I crawled away from the bucket after the smell started to make me gag and just laid there on my stomach wishing I was dead. I don't know how much time passed but the next thing that jarred me from my trance was the sound of locks coming from the door.

I raised my head shielding my eyes from the intense light that came into the room suddenly as the door opened. A large man stood there in front of two guards, he had short brown hair combed neatly and wore an expensive looking suit. "Hello Chris."

I coughed up some phlegm and not bothering to go to the bucket just spit it as far as I could towards the corner after rolling over and sitting up. "Hi." I choked out in a harsh voice that was worn from all the screaming.

"You know who I am?" He asked, his arms crossed.

I turned around to face him. "Bailey..."

"Warden Bailey." He corrected. "Do you realize what you've done?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Yea..." I paused, staring at the ground. "When am I getting out of here?" I asked in a hopeful voice.

He scoffed at me. "You killed a prisoner, and this time we have the proof, you'll be lucky if we let you see the light of day ever again." He turned around whispering something to the guard. "Tomorrow you'll be taken for sentencing; you'd better hope you don't get life."

"Hope...what's the point of hope?" I asked after the door was already closed. "My life is already over."

*** *** ***

"We're going tonight!" Maria exclaimed passing Stacie the joint.

"I know...I know." Stacie said softly pulling hardly on the joint. She didn't like depending on it like this, but at this moment she didn't care. "When are we leaving?"

"Soon I hope...I mean if you want to wait a while that's fine, but not too long ok?" She said taking the joint. Stacie nodded as she pulled. "I mean the traffic won't be so bad, plus there won't be that many people there on a Monday night so you won't have to worry about being around too many people for this hun..."

Stacie smiled. "Thanks..."

"Look I know you don't want to do this, but you know that it is something you have to do right?" Stacie nodded pulling on the joint. "You still have the nightmares?" Another nod. "And you want them to go away right?"

"Of course..." Stacie sighed. "But what guarantee do I have that doing this, finding out...whatever happened." She fumbled with her words. "How do I know it just won't get worse knowing it actually happened?"

Maria was quiet for a minute, and sighed passing the joint back to her. "There is no guarantee. I mean...it could possibly get worse...but it's not going to go away. I know about this you really need to face your problems, you can't hide from them forever they will just get worse."

Stacie nodded, Maria's parents were both psychologists and growing up with that environment, she really did know what she was talking about...Stacie noticed how easy it was to talk to her, and sometimes when they were dealing with this it almost seemed like Stacie was in therapy.

"But look I don't want to force you into anything." Maria said holding her hands up. "It's up to you ok? Do you want to go tonight?"

Stacie frowned, thinking. She waved off the rest of the joint leaving Maria to finish it as she thought. An inner battle was taking place, with half of her wanting to find out what happened and just get it over with, and the other half wanting to just try and forget about it.

The room was filled with quiet for a good five minutes; Maria looked up at Stacie after putting out the joint and just looked at her sympathetically. "So?"

Stacie let out a soft sound starting to talk, but stopped and remained quiet for another minute. "I...I need to find out."

Maria let out a small smile as she rubbed Stacie's leg. "Good. So you want to go now?" Stacie shrugged, and then nodded. "Ok..."

Maria almost carried Stacie out of the house and into the car. She was worried looking at her as she drove; Stacie looked as if she was in some sort of a coma, staring blankly out of the window. Maria could only imagine what was going on inside her head.

Within ten minutes they pulled up and parked about a block away from the club at the nearest available spot and Maria got out and walked over to the passenger door opening it up and kneeling next to Stacie, bringing them eye to eye. "You ready for this?"

Stacie let out a fake smile for Maria's benefit while she wiped a tear forming in her eye and coughed. "Yea..."

"You've been really quiet..."

"Just thinking." Stacie said trying to reassure herself.

Maria nodded and helped her out of the car as they walked the block up to the club. They paid their entrance fees and entered to the loud music and flashing lights. Maria was right, the club was pretty empty tonight, with only maybe a dozen people scattered throughout the entire club.

Stacie noticed a pair of kids half passed out sitting on one of the tables. She looked around trying to trigger any memory of that night but came up with nothing. "So now what?" She yelled to Maria over the music.

"Anyone look familiar?" Maria asked.

Maria strained her eyes looking around the club, she didn't recognize anyone there, and even if she knew someone she could barley make out the faces in the flashing lights and smoke. She just sighed and shook her head.

Maria just took a deep breath licking her lips and looking around. She noticed Stacie swaying and took her hand. "Let's go sit down for a while." Stacie nodded and they made their way to the bar."

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked after they both had sat down.

"Nothing." Maria said. "But could I ask you something?"

The guy shrugged leaning up against the bar. "Knock yourself out toots."

"Do you remember this girl? She was in here a few weeks ago..."

Stacie rolled her eyes and the bartender laughed. "You're joking right? You expect me to remember everyone who comes in here? Can't help ya." He said walking down to a couple who had sitting down at the other end of the bar.

"I knew this was a lost cause." Stacie said getting up. Maria sighed and said something that Stacie couldn't hear over the music and the shock that she was now experiencing. As she got up and turned around she saw a guy getting behind the bar, a guy she recognized. "That's him..." She whispered.

"What?" Maria asked getting closer.

"That's him..." She repeated louder. "That's the guy..."

"Are you sure?" Maria asked, shocked.

Stacie nodded. "Pretty sure."

Any doubts disappeared after the guy caught a glimpse of Stacie and looking startled turned around and walked fast out of the bar and past the girls hiding his face. Maria growled and stormed after him and Stacie sighed following Maria slower.

"Wait! Wait just a minute!" Maria yelled outside running up to the guy.

"What do you want?" He turned around looking around nervously, rolling his eyes and turning his back as Stacie approached.

"You know her?" Maria yelled, angry already.

He turned around with a smile on his face. "Nah."

"Then why the hell did you run out of the club like that after you saw her?"

He laughed taking out a cigarette and holding up his arms defensively. "Hey it's a free country alright? I wanted a cigarette."

"Yea right." Maria said rolling her eyes. "You're free country rule doesn't apply to raping drunk women."

Stacie hit her softly after that and the guy's face went solemn. "What the **** do you think you're talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about." Maria said.

"Look girl; don't go around saying **** you might regret later."

"You mean things you might regret later."

The guy let out a cocky laugh, a grin stuck on his face. "Listen, this isn't your problem."

"Stacie is my friend and it's her problem so yes it is my problem." She paused looking at him. "Did you even know her name?"

"I told you I don't even know this chick." He said pulling on the cigarette.

"Stop." Stacie whispered.

"So she talks." The guy said with a chuckle.

"Shut up." Maria said pointing at him. This made him mockingly taunt her as she leaned closer to Stacie. "What's wrong?"

"Let me talk to him alone." Stacie said.

"But..."

"Please!" Stacie interrupted with force. Maria nodded lowering her head and walked down the block leaning on a car and eyeing the two closely.

"What is this about?" The guy asked. "I'm telling you..."

"Don't...don't waste your breath trying to lie to me because I haven't totally forgotten that night." Stacie said softly.

"Whatever you think you remember..."

"Just tell me." She said. "What happened?" He just looked at her trying to figure out if she was serious. "I need to know."

He swallowed hard. "You came onto me like some ****ing slut...what was I gunna do?" He flicked the cigarette out into the street.

Stacie shook her head closing her eyes. "No, no...no! That's not how it happened." She screamed. "I remember you pulling my pants off and me saying no."

He scoffed. "You don't know what you remember, you were probably just dreaming. Who knows what the **** you were on that night."

Stacie rubbed her forehead. "Please just level with me, tell me what happened."

He leaned in close. "Listen ***** I know what you're trying to do." He whispered harshly to her face. "You're not getting a confession out of me ok? If you remember that night then you know damn well what happened."

"I want to hear you say it."

"**** you!" He screamed, causing Maria to jolt up and start coming back. "And don't even think about trying to get me to come to court because you have no proof of anything." He gave Maria a dirty look as he went back into the club.

"You ok?" Maria asked.

Stacie shook her head. She didn't know what to expect from this whole trip, but one thing was for sure, she knew for sure what happened that night. She was raped...her frown quickly turned into a quivering lip and from there she couldn't hold on any longer and just collapsed in Maria's arms crying.

*** *** ***

"Get in there!" The guard screamed pushing me back into the hole.

"Please no!" I cried out. I let out a yelp as I hit the floor, and scrambled back up as quickly as I could rushing for the door, getting there just in time to have it slammed in my face.

I banged on the door cursing and screaming, straining my already hoarse voice. The slot at the middle of the door opened up and a tray of food slid in. "Eat something O'Reily." The guard said through the door.

"**** you!" I screamed, tears flowing freely. I slapped the tray off of the little slate on the door, causing it to splatter all over the room.

"Stupid ****, you're not getting anymore food." The guard said banging on the door. I screamed at him and punched the door back, kicking it as hard as I could and screaming in the sudden pain.

I was losing control, in a total rage like a five year old on a tantrum for his favorite desert. I rushed over to the bucket to vomit again, and again went through the most excruciating pain I've ever felt, even worse then the last time.

"Just ****ing kill me!" I yelled out wiping my mouth and falling back. I stared at the ceiling again closing my eyes and rolling over trying to ignore the pain that still increasingly got worse.

I knew what day it was, Monday night...but the cost of finding out that information was high. The warden was right, and after a night of tossing and turning in pain and past the endless hours alone in the darkness with my thoughts slowly driving me crazy the door was open and I was let out to have a shower and get dressed.

They made me eat some lunch, which I just ended up throwing up five minutes later and took me to a courthouse where after a few hours of waiting I was led into the courtroom, and stood before a judge as he sentenced me.

I was in more pain then in the hole. I think the light was causing the headache to get worse and constantly having to move around and stand up defiantly didn't help the nausea.

To make matters even worse I was starting to have pretty bad tremors. My arms or legs just start to shake and I can't stop it no matter how hard I try...in fact the harder I try the worse it seemed to get.

I had to actively force myself to swallow to avoid vomiting all over the courtroom as the judge read my file. After a few minutes he sighed shaking his head and took off his glasses looking at me. "What do you plead?"

"Does it really matter?" I blurted out before my appointed lawyer could say anything. He made a face at me and turned to the judge who banged his gavel.

"I suppose not. You were caught at the scene covered in blood with the murder weapon right besides you, covered in your fingerprints. Not to mention the ounce and a half of heroin you possessed."

He sighed again. "In addition to that you are suspect of another murder a few weeks prior to this, but just no evidence to convict you." He looked over the papers again. "But make no mistake it has defiantly made a decision on my sentencing, as has your behavior here today."

I stayed silent as he stood up. "For the crime of second degree murder, possession of a controlled substance and suspect of another murder all while in prison I am going to add thirty years to your sentence. This makes a total of 35, parole in 20."

He shook his head looking at me intently. "And if you want any hope of getting out of here in that 20, then you'd better shape up."

So twenty years...I guess I got off light for two murders and that much heroin. But I didn't even think of it as something attainable...to me my life was already over. I felt the urge coming again and rushed over to the bucket to vomit, more tears flowing from the pain.

Maybe I would get lucky and die in here...maybe if I ever fall asleep I'll choke on my vomit and not have to wake up to another day of this hell...I laughed thinking of that possibility walking around the room.

I continued to giggle walking around in circles and it was at this moment that I really believed that I had officially gone crazy. My whole body ached, my foot more so from kicking the door as I tried to comprehend my racing thoughts.

I thought about Stacie now, trying with every ounce of strength to not totally succumb to the despair that surrounded me. The plan quickly backfired as I thought about never seeing her again, about how much I hurt her...just getting myself more depressed.

I took a breather from my insane giggle filled pacing and held my stomach as I was hit with intense cramps. I quickly ran to the bucket and squatted over it and screamed in pain as diarrhea poured out, making my entire lower body feel as if it were on fire.

This greatly upset my stomach and I quickly had to flip around and vomit. I cringed as I felt a small trickle of liquid stream down my leg. The smell from the bucket didn't help my stomach, causing me to continue to dry heave into the bucket after my stomach emptied.

The dry heaves caused even more pain, and I decided that since nothing was coming I would move away a bit, and stood in the center of the room huddled over gagging and coughing grasping my stomach.

With the smell gone it settled down after the longest minute of my life and I slowly lowered myself back to laying on my back. The food that I knocked over was smelling up the cell so the nausea stayed, but for the most part it had passed and I laid there half passed out still in intense pain.

I closed my eyes wishing that I would die, that this would end but I knew it wouldn't happen...I was being punished and I wouldn't get off that easy.

I don't know how but I managed to fall into a restless sleep. I was haunted with intensely realistic nightmares which thankfully I forgot soon after waking up. But I did wake up, again and again...

I had no way of knowing how long I slept each time but every time I woke up from one of those horrible dreams I was in a cold sweat and in a full body tremor that I couldn't get under control for at least five minutes.

Eventually the time came where I couldn't fall back asleep. I had just come too from what I could only imagine being passed out, I had no memory of falling asleep, or dreams...I just remember rolling over one minute and being on my stomach the next...I guess in reality my mind could just have been playing tricks on me and I might not have slept at all.

Luckily though I had no dreams, and I woke up feeling a little better then before. My stomach ached, but I thought that it might be hunger instead of nausea. I crawled over to the cold food and nibbled on a piece of bread.

I couldn't force down much since I actually wanted to keep this down, and for the first time had a little hope that I would start to feel a little better as my stomach settled down.

I almost had dozed back off to sleep as I heard the loud sound of the lock opening and the door swung open. The light was again a big annoyance as a guard tossed a prison uniform at me. "Get dressed."

I slowly got up and got dressed and with a big smile followed him out of the cell and out of the block. As we walked down the hall I looked at the doors wondering who was inside, or if they had been released too.

I had a smile on my face for the first time in awhile, even though I was still feeling awful, and had no real hope for any future in life at least I was out of there...at least I avoided going insane.

This nice feeling would be short lasting, because as I was led back into my cellblock, and we passed down the hallway to my cell I glanced into a cell and my heart froze. I couldn't believe my eyes and at first thought I was hallucinating...

I saw Anthony...