Georgia Chasse. She was only 17. A tall blonde with bright green eyes, shiny white teeth. She was impossibly attractive. It was starting to become dark that night. It was the middle of January, very cold. As she walked back to her house from school, she took a more quiet route home. Through the woods instead of the main roads. The man was just strolling along. He had no original intention to rape her or even to harm her in the first place. They walked past each other, smiling as they carried on their way.
After a few more seconds of walking he chased after her to maybe try and get her number. But his mind went blank as he tried to speak. Words uttered in his mind. If you wanna be a real gangster you gotta rape a bitch.
He smiled at the girl before grabbing her by the face, wrapping his arm around her body and dragging her into the tree line. He turned her around and pushed her against a tree. She kicked and screamed but he covered her mouth. Pinching her nose hard in the process. "Listen you slut. You're gonna give me something. You look like you could take any size." He whispered into her hear, licking her neck afterward. She cried out and shook her head. He unzipped his jeans and took his penis out. He rubbed it against her skirt before tearing it down the middle. He did the same to her underwear. He spanked her hard several times before sliding his penis inside. She was dry. His penis wasn't fully erect. It was painful for them both.
She kept trying to fight him away but he was just too strong for her. She made sure to get a good look at him but it was a mistake. It only made him behave in a more aggressive way. Slapping, choking, pushing her around as he forced his penis inside her.
After he ejaculated he smashed her head against the tree knocking her out cold. He kicked her in the ribs with such an immense amount of force. They broke on impact. Hard enough for the man to hear them. "Wow. You were really pretty. Too bad. Sleep tight petal." He whispered into her ear before kissing her on the cheek and running away from the area as soon as he could.
The man suddenly woke up. Lost in his day dream a guard had come for recreation. "No. You're not fucking taking me." He spat at the guard. Which he came to regret wholeheartedly. Several COs burst into his cell. Armed with riot shields and batons. He was barged with a shield so hard it broke his forearm. He collapsed back, smashing his head off the wall. It was cut severely. They pulled his jumpsuit up from his waist forcing his arms up and keeping them in place. They did the same to his trousers but pushing down, then bending his knees. They handcuffed him, dragged him out of his cell and threw him on the ground. "There we go. Next time. Listen. Fucking idiot." The man looked at the guard with an immense amount of anger surging through his body. The guard continued to taunt him, "oh. What can you do? Last I checked I'm the one in charge and you're the one with your pants around your ankles. Get this fucker out of my face fellas." The other guards did as they were told. The man continued to stare at him. His eyes didn't move at all. Not in the slightest. Not a shake or a slight glance away. It made the guard feel slightly uneasy. A man who had been locked up for such a short amount of time, without any prior mental illness was able to bring fear to him with a stare.
The man was dragged along to his cage in the yard. He just sat there. Staring at the stars. It was night out. He wasn't sure on the time. He was too tired to tell. Tired of being beating. Tired of the same routine everyday. Tired of staring at the same four walls. It had only been 5 days. But he was done. He was sick of it. He looked at his cage closely. It was made of the same wire metal that some fences are made of. He reached up and held onto it.
Suddenly, the guards burst in. The man jumped back before clothes lining the first one that came to him. He punched the other guard in the face, kicking his knees forcing him to the ground. The man rushed out of the cell and ran towards the main building. "Inmate. 958. Heading towards cell block C. Highly. Dangerous and aggressive." The guard could barely speak, but central control heard him loud and clear. Seven guards started to hunt him down. The rushed out of the cell block door leading to the recreation cages. "He's there!" The man heard them and darted the other way. He was chased for a while but he his cardiovascular fitness was not good at all. It wasn't long before he was tasered, jumped and cuffed. They jump him with such enormous force. The guards hurt themselves as they all slammed to the ground. The man tried to fight back, kicking his legs out like a young child would. In all directions with immense force. They shackled his legs together and carried him back to solitary. It was a different cell. They just threw him in.
The man got up eventually. Still handcuffed with the seven guards stood over him. They removed his cuffs then left him there.
The same thing happened everyday. The only difference being he didn't try to escape his recreation cage. He had given up trying already.
This was his 3rd month in solitary confinement. He was going to see Natalie again today. Just before lunch. It was the only thing worth keeping himself alive for.
Lunch time had rolled around and Natalie was at his cell door. The man sprung up quickly as she walked in. "Hi Natalie." His face lite up and she gave him a bright smile. "Hey there. Shall we go?" The man nodded and he stood up presented his hands to be cuffed. They were taken to their interview room. It was a small square room with a glass window behind Natalie. "How are you feeling?" Natalie asked, she took out a sheet of paper to write down what they'd be saying. "Sore. Tired. In awe."
"About what?"
"You."
She smiled at him and giggled slightly. "You're awfully sweet. But we're here for you not me. Now. Not many people can handle half a life sentence. Let alone 7."
"Maybe so. But I'm hanging on. I won't be serving the second sentence."
"I have to ask this. Have you ever considered hurting yourself?"
The man's expression changed. She expected the worst. The man scoffed, smiled then began playing with his fingers. His head shook as he told her. "No. No I don't." She smiled with relief as she wrote down what he said, but he snapped her to his attention as he said something else. "But killing? Every fucking day. I mean what's the point. I'll never get out of this shit hole will I? The guards change every hour. I get a new guard taking me to recreation everyday. But my cage. Oh it's perfect. The string from my jumpsuit. If I tie it up high enough. I could hang myself. The guards don't look, but when do they look? When you're about to get 7 bells knocked out of you. That's when. It's barely been half a year Natalie. I'm already losing my mind."
"There's not much I can do. I don't have the power to have you transferred or to change your sentence."
The man looked disappointed, but it was too late for any further discussion. Their time was up. Two COs walked in. "Let's go. Time's up."As the man was taken back to his cell, Natalie got up and walked to the superior officer who usually watches the sessions. "Sir. Isn't there anything you can do? I'm certain he's going to commit suicide." He started to shake his head. "No. Not a chance. He's in this prison for a reason. If every suicidal prisoner was moved to a different prison there'd be no inmates."
"Okay. Well what if it's one of the tougher prisons. Tent city or ironwood? Please sir."
"Okay. I'll see what I can do." He sighed deeply before and after he spoke. Natalie walked away with a smile and attempted to catch up with the man before he was back in his cell. But she was too late. The guards weren't around and she didn't know the exact cell he was placed in.Meanwhile, the man had just been tossed in his cell. His broken forearm hit the edge of his bed bringing him such an intense amount of pain. It was unbearable. "Hey you. Fuckers." He couldn't speak much. He tried to manufacture a sling for his arm using his jumpsuit. He took his jumper off, twisted it tight, wrapped it around his forearm firmly. It hurt a lot but he just dealt with the pain. Lunch had arrived and as the CO opened the small door, the man called out. "Hey. I need your help sir. It's my arm. Can you open the door please?" The guard on the other side called for backup just in case the man tried to attack him. Six COs waiting on the other side. "It's my arm. They broke it when they attacked me." He showed them his arm, with the homemade bandage. "We'll get someone to look at it." The guard spoke bitterly. It was enough to make the man doubt they'd actually get him any help. He thought back to a happier time. But there were no happy memories. His life was filled with nothing more than pain and suffering. His entire life. Bullied. Pushed around. Neglected and alone. Even now. He thought he would make friends in prison. Being around people who he could relate to. It was a long shot. But now more than ever, he knew he'd never make any friends. He began to cry. It was soft sobbing. No noise. Just tears rolling down his cheeks.
YOU ARE READING
Life On The Inside
Mystery / ThrillerHe wasn't just given one life sentence. He was given 7. Serving anywhere between 250-300 years. After several brutal murders, theft, assault and drug use he has finally been caught and trialled. Placed in a maximum security prison, how much of his s...