Inmates (A Joe Sugg Fanfiction)

1 - Prisoner

Prisoner : (noun)

a person legally committed to prison as a punishment for a crime or while awaiting trial.

The seats on the bus shook as it drove, each tiny movement sending vibrations through my veins. It was one of the most uncomfortable journeys I've ever been on - and I'd been on a lot. Icy air was pooling through the gaps in the old windows causing the skin, underneath the garments I had been given to wear, to arise in Goosebumps.

The people around me looked as pale and as worn down as I assumed I did. Some of them looked frightened for their lives, others looking as if they'd done this a million times. 

I was one of the frightened ones. Terrified actually.

Sweat was forming over the Goosebumps, not from overwhelming warmth but from fear and from the rapid beating of my heart. Each thump was like a loud clap of thunder in my ears and an aftershock of lightning paralyzing my body.

Everything on this small bus was old - including the lady who was sat in the row behind me, her breaths shaky and wheezing. Her hands were frail and discoloured, bound together by the thick metal locked around her wrists.

This metal also contained my wrists limiting my movements. It was the worst every time an itch arose beneath my skin, the cool metal rattling as I shook. As I watched the woman, her eyes were darting everywhere, drinking in all of her surroundings more intently than I was. I had always found people watching fascinating and this was no exception. This woman was paranoid, more than the rest of us. I could sense a present fear of not just where we were going, but what was awaiting there for her.

The front of the bus was full of males in bright orange uniforms, my light brown uniform looking pale in comparison. Every time one of their heads turned I could clearly see the darkness in and around their eyes. All of their faces were hard, staring either forward or straight behind, inspecting everyone around them. Some with hair cut short, some long, some with no hair at all.

I was sat near the back of the bus on a seat on my own, but surrounding me were a number of women. Some of them were perfectly groomed, their hair brushed to perfection and makeup done up for this fateful day. Others, well, let's just say they didn't care about how they looked. Their hair was matted and greasy and their faces were grey and worn down.

There was not much to look at outside the window. Dusty roads, worn down trees, the odd abandoned vehicle. This road was barely used and hidden from those who did not need to use it. The only tyre tracks were those from this bus and many buses before it, taking groups of criminals to where they were destined to be; the building that stood tall and alone in this broken down civilisation: Shadow Run Prison.

The vehicle pulled to a harsh stop, the breaks slamming sending me flying forward. A small, sharp pain ran through the side of my face as I felt something pointed scrape my skin. I could instantly tell there was going to be blood running down my cheek but I guess that'd have to wait to be sorted out. 

Heavy footsteps sounded down the walkway as the guard on board made his way over. Tiny beads of sweat had formed along my hairline and my palms had become clammy, making my already uncomfortable situation even worse.

"Okay, listen up!" His deep voice boomed through the confined space. "My name is Dawkins and I'm going to be your providing Officer for most of your stay here. I want you all to do exactly as I say and any funny business will be punished."

A loud scoff was heard from one of the front seats and Dawkins immediately turned round to send daggers to whoever had made the noise. His hair was dark and gelled up into a try-hard quiff. Upon his face was a thick, bushy moustache making him look a lot older than I assumed he was.