SCALES OF JUSTICE Chapter 05: PRISON CONDITIONS

CH 5: PRISON CONDITIONS

With no cells and the cots lined up in the room they wondered how they’d be able to keep possession of one without other inmates trying to claim it or dragging the mattress away because there was no frame.  “That sounds like supper,” Jack grimaced when a loud bell rang. A slot in the wall opened up and inside was a bowl of grey paste and a bottle of water. “What the hell is this where’s the fucking food? Jack groaned. It smelt like shit, there were no utensils they had to use their fingers like savages, and there was no-where to sit down except for on their cot. Jack gagged trying to eat the stuff but after two days of not eating he pinched his nose to avoid the smell and swallowed a few gulp. Smokey laughed and said he had had worse but ZZ agreed the stuff tasted like dog shit although none of them had eaten dog shit before. Tim gagged and threw up and they tell him he had to get over it because this is it and he would die if he didn’t eat.

It wasn’t only the food they had to deal with but since the place has no windows or clocks they didn’t know if it was night or day much less what day of the week it was. The time went by even slower not having a prison job, any classes, or yard/gym time to keep them busy. “Fuck we don’t have a t.v. or radio so what are we supposed to do to entertain ourselves?” Jack vented. How the hell does the warden get away with it? To make things worse they had no contact with their friends or family. No letters, packages, phone calls, or visits. They all wondered if anyone knew where they were or if they would ever see or hear from a single soul outside the prison ever again. Jack mulled over his minor criminal offences and he felt that he shouldn’t have been there. He was only twenty-five, and it dawned on him that these guys were his new surrogate family but he needed to feel someone in the outside world cared if he was dead or alive but it was unattainable.

They came in with the clothes off their backs and there were no prison uniforms in fact there were no showers or sinks either absolutely no running water except for the toilets. Jack ran his fingers through his hair and used his fingernail to scrap the crud off his teeth and wipe it on his pants, just like his nose. The place was disgusting! They felt like caged animals in a filthy zoo and without showers the place smelt as ripe as a zoo.

Some of the cons had disappeared into the abyss of the warehouse never to be seen again, not so far yet. Maybe there was an end to the warehouse and they thought it was safer there. They sent out a few scouting parties to see what was out in the deep dark depths of the warehouse with the warning to keep against the wall but after a long time when they didn’t return after three search parties they give up. It was as if the warehouse swallowed them whole. It was freaky the warehouse had to end somewhere! And why didn’t they come back? But they couldn’t afford to send out more search parties and although they discussed moving further into the warehouse if they didn’t stay by the door their numbers wouldn’t increase and there was strength in numbers. Besides they’d just suffer the same fate as the others and their instincts told them they were dead. So the days all blended together and they ate, slept, and took a shit which made them feel robotic much like the SS-R. The only way they tried to break up the monotony was to sing songs, tell stories, and rough-house, boredom was dangerous

 

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