Surviving the Jungle

The Interview

The last few weeks have been tense. The guards are stricter than usual and the inmates try to avoid catching their attention as much as possible. The Jungle Director announced that he would be coming here once a week, checking in on us. He's also been conducting interviews, asking inmates questions about our living conditions. I don't know what kind of answers he's looking for. Our living conditions are already pretty terrible, but I think he wishes it were worse.

I don't know about the others, but my corridor hasn't been allowed out to the yard today. Through the bars on my door, I saw Blade looking around this morning. He's as worried as I am. This man could turn Zone 3 into even more of a living hell for us. At least, it isn't completely chaotic for now.

As I lay on my bed, daydreaming, because there isn't much else for me to do, my cell door opens. A guard whistles for me to get out and pulls me by my arm as I pass the door. He doesn't utter a word, guiding me towards a room I've never been in. He knocks, before opening the door and shoving me inside. He sits me down on a cold metal chair before cuffing my hands behind my back and my legs to the floor. The Jungle Director stands in a corner of the room, watching me with his hands on his hips. His eyes scrutinize me, pausing as he sees my scar. Then the guard leaves, and the director starts walking in circles around me.

"Name?

-Purity.

-Well, that's funny for a criminal. How old are you?

-23, sir.

-How would you describe your experience in Zone 3?

-Traumatizing.

-And what is it that's traumatized you? Tell me, you don't look like someone with trauma.

-I've... I've been assaulted. And I've received threats.

-What kind of threats?

-Rape..."

The Jungle Director stops walking and puts his hands on my thighs. I can feel him behind me, his front touching my back, his breath against my cheek. Does he want to hurt me, or simply to intimidate me?

"That would be traumatizing, indeed."  He whispers and pauses. "And I could make your life even more difficult if you don't answer correctly to my next questions."

His hands travel from my thighs to my sides, my breasts, my neck. He massages my shoulders before wrapping them around my throat. The Director laughs as he squeezes, but not too tight. I can still breath. The back of my head is pressed against his body. This gesture isn't meant to kill me, it's only a threat of what he could do to me.

"Someone told me you and your boyfriend had had some time out last week. Now, before you answer, I'm an honest man. We can make a deal. You tell me whoever allowed you out, and I won't kill you.

-We didn't go out.

-It really isn't in your interest to lie, sweetheart. Tell me the truth.

-I swear we didn't.

-Then tell me why your boyfriend and you left the yard that day.

-Because... I asked a guard if I could borrow a book. And since I've always behaved, she allowed me to go pick one.

-Come on Purity, you could do better than that. You're a terrible liar.

-I'm not. It's the truth.

-Then, why did Blade go with you? From what I've been told, he's killed a man recently. His behaviour shouldn't be rewarded with a book. And honestly, you shouldn't be rewarded either. You're a murderer. You deserve to rot in here, lonely, weak, ashamed of yourself. I don't believe any of your lies. But, you know what? It's fine. I'll enjoy breaking you, pulling the truth out of you."

The director moves away from me to knock on the door. A guard enters, waiting for his direction. The director smirks at me before whispering an order to the guard. I can't hear what he's saying, but from his disgusting smile, I know that I should expect the worse.

He approaches me again and pats my head.

"Don't worry. As soon as you tell me the truth, I'll put an end to it."

The guard unlocks the cuffs at my ankles and wrists before pulling towards my cell. What is it? What's going to happen to me?

As soon as we enter my corridor, the guard halts. My confusion quickly comes to an end as he starts undressing me. Now I understand. That is how he will break me. I told the director what I was most afraid of and he will use that same exact threat against me.

I try to fight the guard, but to no avail. Another comes to hold me while he finishes undressing me. They walk me through the corridor and I've rarely felt so humiliated. I can't wait to be inside of my cell. Even if I remain naked, at least nobody will see me in there. I try to be as silent as possible as we walk. I don't want to attract the inmates attention.

But once we reach my cell, the guards do something that I wasn't expecting. They don't open the door. Their plan is far more vicious than simply showing my naked body. They want to humiliate me. To prove to others, as well as to myself, how weak and defenseless I am.

One of the guards cuffs my hands to the bars on my door. My back is to the corridor and I'm frozen in place. I can't turn my head. I wonder who's looking at me already. Blade has seen me for sure. Probably Rope too.

Once again, the guards surprise me by going even further in their humiliation. I feel violated as I feel their hands on me. One of them spanks me, making me whimper. Blade calls for them to stop, but they ignore him. He could help le in the yard, however he can't help me in here. We're powerless. 

Tears run down my face as I think about my sister. I try to convince myself that it's a good thing that I'm here. At least I saved her. She wouldn't have survived it. She's too young. I'm glad I'm here instead of her, even if ultimately, I would have liked for us both to be free.

A weird noise pulls me out of my thoughts. The first guard is taking his belt off, he plans on hitting me with it. Next to me, the second guard puts his hand in my hair and pushing my head hard against the metal door. The first strike of the belt is unbearable. I scream so loud my throat already hurts. After the second blow, my throat is even more sore. I won't take another hit. I can't. Turning my head to the side, I bite the guards's arm. I bite until he lets go of my hair. The first guard laughs. Distracted by his colleague's pain, he stops hitting me. The guard I bit shoves him and takes his belt away. He puts it around my head, like a gag.

"Fucking bitch! We were nearly done. Now I've changed my mind. You'll spend the night like that."

And with those words, the guards leave, laughing at me. The belt in my mouth tastes disgusting. My body hurts from being hit. I already know that I won't be able to sleep tonight. My hands cuffed to the bars will keep me standing and uncomfortable. I don't know what's worse: Stallion's beatting, or this?