Our Time

Chapter 1: Brandon Lysan

"Next!" The heavy set prison guard yelled.
"Come to! I don't have all day!" Balding, with a horrible odor. The guard grabbed a hold of my shirt. Throwing me into the photo area, almost tripping on my own feet. "Brandon Lysan. Age: 24, hold up the information card." I looked at the photographer, a scrawny and pale man. Who, probably, didn't get out of his mother's basement enough for a tan. With a significant furrowed of his brow. He began to shriek. "Brandon Lysan! Hold up your card!" I did as he said, slowly and reluctantly raising the card above my chest. In an instant the camera flashed, and another inmate was thrown into me. "You're done Lysan! Get a move on. " the guard exclaimed. Angry, but aware of the situation I moved along to the door at the other end of the room. 'I shouldn't be here' I thought 'I am not a criminal, I did it to save her.' That's right. I did it. I fought and killed a man who would have ended up in here anyways. He had a knife to her throat, what else could I have done. I began to feel a tear falling down my cheek. Quickly, I wiped it off before anyone could see it. "She's gone" I told myself "and she isn't coming back." Reassured, I keep remembering that night. The night that changed me. Just as I was fully reminiscing in my failures, I felt a sharp pain in the back of my skull. I let out a loud shout in pain. "You think I'm joking Lysan!" The guard spat "You are holding up the line!" Through blurred vision, I noticed the extended baton in his hand. "What are you waiting for?" He exclaimed while kicking me in the back. I flung through the the door landing on my side. The fatass, slammed the door nearly taking my foot with it. I slowly got to my feet, grunting as I went. Only to be greeted a to a large, dark room. Small, rectangular windows dotting the high ends of the walls. Standing in the middle of the room stood two more guards. One stood by with a prison uniform in his arms, most likely my future wardrobe. The other stood with a hose, staring daggers as I walked towards them. "Stand behind the line inmate." The guard with the hose said " remove all forms of clothing." I stood behind the yellow line painted on the concrete floor. Grudgingly I did as he said. I removed everything, except for my locket which I wore around my neck. The guard holding the uniform threw it to the side. Before I could react, the guards hand firmly took a hold of my shirt. Throwing his fist around the locket, he yanked quickly with enough force to break the chain. I grabbed his wrist almost instinctively. Leaning in close, he had a worried expression on his face. Whispering he said "Don't worry, I won't get rid of it. Just do as my comrade says and you will get it back." "Why help me?" I whispered "You know what I've done, don't you?" He let out a small sigh, and looked directly into my eyes. "I know a father when I see one." He whispered "I read your file, I would do the same for my kids." I had to force my hand up, but I let the guard go. He stood straight and turned back towards the other guard. As soon as he was on the other side other line, the guard shot pressurized water directly at my torso. The impact was enough to send me flying on my ass. After what felt like hours, the guard finally turned off the hose. "Get up! Grab you uniform and head to the blocks." Naked and bruised I stumbled up, and yanked the uniform out of the guards hands. Wobbling, my vision had begun to blur. Until I reached the other side of the room. Where the steel doors opened automatically and my new life began.