SHADOWS OF DECEIT

Hard to Sleep

Superintendent Joe informed Elvis, next in charge of Adenta prison, that a detective would soon arrive to investigate the reported prisoner murder.

"When is he arriving, sir?" Elvis asked.

"Anytime from now or maybe tomorrow. Make sure to give all the details and paperwork to him," Joe instructed, and Elvis nodded
" you may now leave " Joe added, before Elvis stood to leave the office.

As Elvis strolled down the corridors towards the prisoner mess hall, he heard sobbing coming from the cell wing. Curiosity led him to investigate, and he found a small boy curled up and crying.
If someone were to study him, they might assume he was a minor.

"Hey there," Elvis called out. The boy turned with large, frightened eyes.

"What are you doing here alone? Don't you know it's time for your meal?" Elvis asked harshly.

The boy did not answer but continued to stare. Frustrated, Elvis grunted, "Go to the mess hall now."
There was no movement. "Alright, people like you need to be disciplined," he said, losing his cool. He entered the cell and delivered a hard slap to the boy's face, eliciting a wince. "Now, proceed to the mess hall immediately," he reiterated.
"Now! before you take another one."

The boy got up and walked out slowly, not knowing where the mess hall was. "I see you're new here," Elvis smirked. "Quick, follow me before the food finishes. It's almost 6, and by 6:30, it'll be finished."

Upon reaching the mess hall, every table was occupied, and the occupants stared intently at the boy. "Quick, follow me," sighed Elvis as he guided the boy to a room within the mess hall. Inside, four men in white shirts and uniform pants, having removed their uniform shirts, were as they ate and laughed casually.

"Hey, Elvis, who's with you?" Rema inquired upon seeing Elvis enter with a smallish boy.

"Sit down," Elvis instructed the boy, making space for him on the bench before addressing Rema. "I found him in his cell crying; he's new here and wouldn't get food this time."

"Oh, I see. So he's not yours? I like him; let me have him," Godfred chimed in, scanning the boy.

"Whoa, calm down," Nana Kwame laughed, observing Godfred's intense gaze on the boy.

"Eat and leave," Elvis directed, dropping a bowl in front of the boy as he began to serve him. Ben, who had been silent, finally spoke up, asking, "What's your name, boy?"

The boy hesitated before answering, "Jesse."

"Jesse? That name sounds familiar. You're new, right?" Nana Kwame asked, feeling the name ring a bell.

"Ah, you're the one suspected of murdering your friend, huh? Looking at you, you could never do that; you're being framed," Nana Kwame concluded, finally remembering.

"Oh, another tragic event," Rema commented. "Being framed won't get you out of here, Jesse, unless you're loaded or maybe know someone who's loaded," he added.

"Guys, just stay quiet and let him eat," Elvis reprimanded them, bringing order to the conversation.

"But, to be honest, I like him," Godfred whispered to Nana Kwame as he munched on his food.

"Shut up," Elvis scolded.

"What, you haven't labelled him, have you, sir?" Godfred retorted, earning a glare from Elvis. Ben sat there, unable to contain his laughter at the banter.

Jesse, feeling uncomfortable among the superiors, decided to eat quickly and leave. Once he was done, he looked back at Elvis, unsure of what to say to take his leave. Sensing Jesse's unease, Elvis turned to him and nodded, permitting him to leave, which Jesse didn't hesitate to do.

"Wow, he's cute," Nana Kwame remarked after Jesse left, earning another glare from Elvis.

Jesse retraced his steps to the cell wing, realizing that the mess hall was now nearly deserted. Hastily, he made his way to the cell wing, avoiding any prying eyes. In the cell wing, an arrangement of ten cells, five on either side, faced each other, divided by a walkway. Each cell accommodated approximately 150 inmates, creating an environment both uncomfortable and challenging due to limited space. Regrettably, the confined quarters compelled them to endure the unfortunate necessity of relieving themselves within their cramped confines, particularly when the cells were secured—usually at 8 in the evening.

Jesse navigated to his designated cell, entering to find several of his cellmates already present. As he settled into a corner, a space he had grown accustomed to, he noticed curious glances and scoffs directed his way. Refraining from meeting their eyes, he kept his gaze fixed on the ground, a silent contemplation amid the confined surroundings.

His thoughts were gently invaded by memories of his mother as he contemplated the meals his mother and baby sister might be having, yearning to see them again.

In his curled-up position, he observed as additional inmates joined the confined space. He tried to force himself to sleep, but the unsettling moans and grunts from neighbouring cells and his own disrupted any chance of rest. He refrained from lifting his gaze or dwelling on the activities transpiring in both his cell and the adjacent ones.
He managed to escape the discomfort, with his averted gaze downward, as he chose to fix his eyes on the ground., determined to find sleep amid the challenging surroundings, he closed his eyes and tried to shut out the disturbing sounds.