The sound of screaming rang in his ears. His eyes were bloodshot. He saw the lights on the ceiling going past and past and past. He saw double doors. More lights. A ceiling fan. He stopped moving. He struggled to keep his eyes open. It wasn't long before he lost consciousness again.
The man finally woke up. His initial reaction was one of confusion. He didn't know where he was. He lifted his head, looked around and it hit him. He was in the hospital. Attached to a drip and a heart monitor. His head pounded. It was the worst hang over he had ever experienced he thought to himself, but it wasn't just a hang over. He had collapsed from fright, stress and an overdose on cocaine. His heart began to ache slightly. "Is anyone here?" His throat was sore, dry and it felt like he had eaten a cactus. A doctor walked over, consulting the manifest at the foot of his bed. "Hello sir. Welcome to hell." The doctors voice turned devilish. "How are you enjoying your stay motherfucker?" Everything changed back. "What?" The man asked. "I asked how are you feeling sir? Don't worry. The drugs might still be in your system, but, it seems you'll be okay." The doctor actually had a very soothing voice, much like the man's own. He was petrified. He didn't know what happened. What day it was. What time it was. "Excuse me doctor. What happened?"
"You overdosed and collapsed sir. You had a hefty amount of cocaine in your system when you arrived. You'll be fine in a few days though." The man nodded, giving the doctor indirect permission to go on, as the man had the information he needed.After downing the best part of the two litre water bottle beside him, the man just lay there staring at the ceiling. An overdose on cocaine? I've never had cocaine in my life. The man's mind was all over the place. He looked towards the door. He could see two guards stood there. "Hey. Guard. Officer." One turned around, walked in and looked at the man. "What is it?" He asked. "What's gonna happen to me? When I get back to prison." The guard shrugged. "I don't know. But what I do know is that you're not going back to prison." The guard left. Not only the room but the man. With an enormous sense of dread, fear and paranoia. What did he mean not back to prison. Are they gonna kill me? His body froze in place. He didn't know what to do. He finished the water bottle off then began to think back at his life. He had wasted it.
He began mumbling to himself. "Lydia. You were so pretty. Just a waitress. Alexi too. So beautiful. Georgia. Melissa. You said you'd like me. Marilyn. You looked like Jayne Mansfield."
"Hey man. Can you shut the fuck up? Stop talking about your ex girlfriends." The patient who spoke was Caucasian. Fairly short. Middle aged. "Hey listen you stupid fucking cunt. I'll rape your fucking daughter, kill her and give myself another life sentence. Is that what you want? Huh? Fucking answer me cunt!" He began laughing to himself. "Seven life sentences. Lock your daughters and wives up. I'm coming for them. Your daughter is first cunt." His eyes widened as he stared at the middle aged patient. The man lay in his bed, pressing the buzzer a couple times to call a nurse. She walked over to him with a friendly smile. "Wow. You're really pretty ma'am. But can I get some more water please?" The middle aged man was angry but very scared. He thought for a moment. Seven life sentences. He isn't going to hurt him. "Hey nurse. Don't let him flatter you. He's in for rape."
"I know mister. I heard your little argument." The man started to laugh.Time passed by very slowly for the man. People came and went. Everyone had at least one visitor. Even here the man felt alone. All he had was the pretty nurse. He tried not to flirt with her, he still remembered Natalie from ADX Florence. He wanted to contact her. Possibly to arrange a visit while he was in hospital. It was a long shot but he felt as though he needed a reason to live, otherwise he might as well just die. "Officer? Can you come here for a moment?" The CO walked in. It was a different guard. "I need your help. There's someone I need to contact. She works at USP. Please." The facial expression from the man was one of desperation and hope. "I dunno inmate." The man recognised the voice. It was the same guard who helped him out before. "Well since I think you're a good guy I'll see what I can do. I need her name and the prison she works at." The man's face lit up. He wasn't expecting the guard to help. "Umm her name is Natalie and she works at USP Florence. She was a umm, a counsellor. Just give them my name. I'm sure she'll know." The guard nodded and gave the man a slight smile. "Alright. I'll see what can be done inmate."
The guards had left the hospital. There weren't any stood by the door. Mainly because the man was fast asleep. He was having a dream. The worst of dreams. It was a nightmare about the time he thought he was brave enough to fight his bullies back. It didn't end well.
It was a terrible day for him. He had just been beaten by his new step dad. Steve. They hated each other. He went to school with a black eye and a terrible limp. He finally arrived at school, first looking around for his bullies. He hoped they'd just leave him alone. He couldn't take it anymore. He was wrong. His bullies were hiding somewhere, just waiting to pounce. On his way inside, the ring leader of his bullies pounced. An enormous black fist battered his jaw. He collapsed, crying his eyes out, bleeding like he'd lost a limb. "Please. Not today. I'm sorry." He was kicked in the ribs hard. "Shut the fuck up bitch." He was kicked out. They allowed him to stand up. Coughing and wheezing in such agony.
The man quickly analysed the situation. He didn't think and attempted to punch one of the bullies. His punch was hard. Hard enough to break his nose, but it was too late. A bin smashed the back of his head. He collapsed, banging his head on the concrete. It was at that moment he woke up.
He screamed loudly waking everyone up in the room and the neighbouring room. He was surrounded by nurses who were trying to calm him down. His body temperature has risen to over 45 degrees Celsius. The bed sheets were soaked in sweat, as were his clothes. He splashed his face with water and lay there but the nurses stopped him. Opening the windows, putting fans on to try and calm him down. His heart rate was incredibly high too. "Sir. Just relax. It was a bad dream. Just calm down." The man did was the nurse said. He just lay there and looked up at the sky. "Why bother nurse? My life is over anyway." He began laughing to himself slightly, coughing and groaned as he did. It was painful. Both for him to do and for the nurses to see. "Maybe so. But we have a job to do." He finally calmed down.
The same routine carried on for the next few weeks. Nightmares, random episodes, flashbacks, hallucinations, losing consciousness. He didn't know what was wrong. It wasn't long before they had to get him to a psychiatrist. The nurses feared the worst. He was to see the psychiatrist that weekend. It was his 5th week in the hospital. The hospital was better than prison but so much worse at the same time. At least there he could recover from physical pain. But the mental disorders he clearly had? He'd carry those with him to his deathbed.
The psychiatrist arrived, finally, but she had finally come to a conclusion. He had been diagnosed with a whole host of mental disorders. The man was frightened. He didn't know what any of it meant. She tried to answer the man's questions as best as she could but he still couldn't wrap his head around it. Schizophrenia, anxiety disorder, bipolar disorder. The list went on. "But wait. How am I supposed to go back to prison with my mind in such a fucked up state. I mean I get bullied enough as it is. Even more when they find out I'm mentally unstable." The psychiatrist smiled at him tenderly. "Well I can assure you most prisoners are mentally unstable. But you won't be going back to prison. You'll be in the psychiatric ward most likely. In fact I'm almost certain. You're very unique, I've never seen anyone like you before. But don't worry. You'll be taken care of." The man nodded at her, he knew it wasn't enough but there was nothing else he could do. It would be better than prison. Wouldn't it?
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...