Life On The Inside

Chapter 4

The man stood up and looked at his room for the next, however long of a time period the prison saw fit. It could be an hour, a day, a month. Some inmates have spent their entire sentences in solitary confinement.

The COs that tossed him in his cell were large men. Over 6 feet tall, over 200lbs. They burst into his room to pin him against the wall. He cried out in pain and tried to break free but there was too much force being pressed against every inch of his body. He'd never experienced pain close to it. They were handed batons then began to beat him with them. Slamming the hard metal ends against his legs and back. The man's legs trembled, aches and throbbed as he was beat. The COs dropped his body before leaving. The man turned to face the cell door. This was it. 6'x9'. A toilet. A steel bed. And the same 4 walls to stare at. No sunlight came into the cell. It was positioned that way for both security reasons and to mentally breakdown the occupants.

The man lay there. Still as a rock. Blood puddles on the floor beneath him. He gathered enough strength and finally stood up. He held his ribs in pain. At least 5 had been broken. His ankle sprained. His nose broken and his nerves shot to pieces. He sat on his bed, groaned and winced in great pain.

As he lay there, he thought back to his crime. Rape. Murder. Kidnapping. Theft. He lead a life of crime. From an early age. He was born in Detroit. A torn up city as it already was. His father left before he was born, didn't even know his name. His mother barely raised him in a caravan. She was a drug addict and an alcoholic. Spending whatever money they had on prescription drugs and vodka.

The first time they moved homes, the man was only 7 years of age. They moved from one side of Detroit to the other. He had also changed schools for the first time. The area was rough, torn apart by gang culture and a general lack of care from the council and government. He had just started elementary school, again. He as an outsider. One of a few white kids among tons of black kids. He was always a bit of a loner as a child. Even when he wasn't at school he spent his time alone, secluded, isolated.

He was dwarfed by everyone at the school. He was skinny, short and white. Easy pray for the bullies. His first encounter with the bullies started almost right away. He bumped into one at the entrance to the school. He was enormous compared to the man. "Watch your fucking self nigga." The bully pushed him back into another bully. "This little fucker. You didn't just bump into me." He was pushed again by the first bully. He was luckily saved by the bell and the teachers. He was terrified. A young small kid in a school full of soon to be gangbangers and criminals.

As he walked to his class, he was approached by the same bully. "You're not gonna make it out of here today alive boy." The bully cracked his knuckles before walking off. He spent the day scared and shaking as he didn't know what to do. He had no friends backing him. No family to protect him.

The end of the day rolled around and his first set of bullies were waiting for him outside. There was only one gate to exit the school campus. He decided to face them knowing how it would end. He walked right past them without anything happening. He could finally relax. But he was wrong. Before he knew it he woke up in hospital. Bandages on his legs. His mother sat beside his bed smoking and drinking.

He had been beat so severely he was in a coma for 3 days. His mother handed him some water with her Valium pills at the bottom but he pushed it away. "No. Baby you need to drink something." His mothers voice was croaky and dragged slightly.

The man snapped out of his day dream by the sound of the small door on his cell opening. "Here's your dinner." They slid it through before the man could grab it so it just spilt on the floor. He only wanted the bottle of water anyway. He wiped the tears from his eyes and drank his water. Contemplating about his life. The choices he made and how terrible of a life he lead.