Prisoners of War - Chapter 27

Essay by spoonman419 August 2004

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I awoke suddenly much like I would with a nightmare, my eyes opening sharply and raising up in my bed with a soft choke. The first thing I noticed was my head hurting, then looking around remembered the awful reality.

Paul jumped off of his bed and I looked away as he dropped his shorts to use the toilet five feet away from the beds. "You better not be looking at my ass." He said chuckling and began to whistle.

I just held my hand over my eyes as a buzz was heard and our door slid open. "I'm not." I assured him getting up and heading out. Surprisingly I was hungry; I tried but couldn't remember the last time I had eaten.

I didn't know where I was supposed to go, but ended up just following everyone else still feeling somewhat out of it from the heroin last night.

Many prisoners pushed past me laughing, and even a few shoved me, but luckily after all the long halls that looked the same we came to a pair of double doors, each one guarded by two guards, and I went into the large cafeteria.

There were eight long tables placed side by side through most of the room, and looking around to the left I saw the line for food, which looked more like a mass production line then getting fed. A small group of prisoners behind a long bar giving out food, with a few more behind them cleaning and cooking more.

I grabbed a tray when it was my turn, and went through the line, having the people drop some really bad looking food on the tray, barley paying attention to me and moving me on. "You new kid?" I looked up to see one eyeing me...