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CW: Discussions of prison and trauma related to that, masturbation, drug overdose.
I tried to make this as accurate as I could based on a) what I know from years of prison scholarship and b) gathering accounts from people who had been released from prison in America. It's different from state to state. This isn't 100% accurate to everyone's experience, but it is based on what I already know.
PRISON SLANG TERMS USED: Cellie = cellmate Fish = new inmate Prison blues = prison uniform A screw= A guard (slang for guards depends on the prison but this is what the guys I worked with called them) The hole = aka the SHU aka the secure housing unit, aka solitary confinement
Prisons have their own unique languages that vary depending on the prison that you're in but some slang is pretty common. Prisoners talk like this for a variety of reasons - to hide things from guards, to talk about criminal behavior and gossip without staff catching them. It's a form of "anti-language" and to learn it colloquially and make it sound natural, you have to be in a prison. I picked this stuff up working with prisoners who were gracious enough to teach me.
I don't know if Eden, Kentucky was a prison town. I made that part up.
Treasure maps, fallen trees Operator, please call me back when it's time Stolen friends and disease Operator, please Patch me back to my mind - The Black Keys, "Little Black Submarines"
BUCKY
KENTUCKY STATE PENITENTIARY || EDDYVILLE, KY
FALL, 2023
I've been pacing around my cell all morning, making sure it's clean and my shit's packed, sitting on one of the tiny shelves. A John Grisham book that my old cellie, Logan, left here after he got out, a notebook, and a pen. The prison's got everything else. I had fifty bucks in cash on me when I came in here four years ago. No idea what's become of it, but I still remember it burning a hole in my pocket.
I glance down at my hands, once bare and now heavily tattooed, much like the rest of my body. My prison blues are faded, the cuffs of my pants stained with god knows what. Originally, I was sentenced to two years, and then that got bumped up to four when I saw a bunch of gang bangers trying to hassle one of the fish. Fucked 'em up real good, not enough to kill them. I don't need an attempted murder charge on my rap sheet. But I did break one of their arms with a barbell from the weight set. Got sent to the hole for it and the DA tacked on another two years.
You try to do the right thing.
My stomach is churning. It feels like I'm just about to go down the first big dive on a rollercoaster, and I rub my face, anxious to get rid of this feeling. It's been like this for a whole goddamn week. The nearer my release date approaches, the less I eat, the less I sleep, and the more cigarettes I smoke. My lungs feel like scorched earth and my muscles ache from pacing back and forth for most of the night.
