90 Days to Love (Completed)

36: You're Going to Make It

Trey Wiggins

"Fresh meat, fresh meat, fresh meat!" I looked from my left to my right as I heard nothing but consistent banging against the prison cells both above me and beneath me, while the CO walked me through the different blocks.

The place reeked, it was hot as hell and I could tell it was overpopulated. In my booking group; I had two other guys that I had ridden down on the bus with, the rest of them joined us from another bus. I could see the difference in the reactions of the guys around me, most of them seemed ecstatic and from the comments of the officers I, soon realized that they were regulars; this prison was their second home.

It was obvious that I was the fresh meat, every block I walked through; people greeted the others in the line by their "street name". This was general population, a place that I heard could become a blood bath in minutes; because of my charges however, I had a strike rule. The moment I got into any trouble, without a fair explanation, I'd be shipped up to Maximum Security which from what I heard from the other guys, is no place for a guy like me.

As much as I thought that maybe if I kept a nonchalant expression on my face, I'd fit in or be able to make it, but one step into this place and they had sniffed me out. I heard "fresh meat" from the CO's that got me registered, the prisoners confirming that it was me.

I took a deep, staggered breath as I followed the direction of the officers. With a heavy, old, tattered rolled up bed pad in my arms, along with some white sheets that looked more like brown to me. My skin itched at the mere though that this, was something that I had to get used to.

Unlike the others, I wasn't awaiting trial. I knew the options of my sentence, my mom had gotten me a lawyer but from what I'm hearing the most deal he could probably get me was a 20 piece, which apparently was like gold in regards to a case like mine.

"Wiggins." One of the officers yelled, causing me to look up. "This is your cell." He pointed, hitting his baton against the bars to get the other officer in control to open the door. "Get comfortable. It's about to be supper time."

I stepped inside the small little box; the walls were filthy. There was a bedding area against the wall with a window so dirty that it seemed like it was dark outside. A toilet in the corner and a sink, that crawled with roaches. By the time I turned on my heels, the doors had already shut. I couldn't even open my mouth to complain because before I knew it, the line up of guys were off and the sound of the banging and cheering, would've drowned out the little voice I probably had left.

The back of my eyes burned, but I tried my best to just hold it together. I put the rolled-up pad onto the hard cement frame, adjusting it to where it was to be. To be quite honest, this "mattress" was nothing less than pitiful. Half the cotton had been pulled out of it, the bottom part; nearly empty. However, it was the best out of the rest that I saw the other guys get a hold of, so I followed my mothers' instructions and kept my mouth shut. I knew it wasn't going to be easy, she said the best I could do is grin and bare it until the end.

To be honest, I tried my best not to hate her for this, every day that went by I started to understand but the more that I saw, the more that I faced. Being in a holding cell for days, getting my privacy and dignity stripped, having to be around conditions like this; made it very hard. I went from crying to literally mustering up hateful works for the next time that I saw her. It was hard for me not to hurt, hard for me to understand why she would want me in a predicament like this; no matter how much I knew deep down that I deserved it. Yet, hated to admit it.

It was an accident, but at the end of the day; all the police heard was me say that I was guilty. They didn't care about the how or the why, all they wanted to know was that I did it, so they could get my case off their desk.