Perceptions: 2
I hate my job! I know a lot of people say they hate their job, but I mean it I really hate mine. I have to sit here everyday and listen to the same sounds day in day out. I mean how much torture can a human take. I'm not an evil person, so why do I feel so bad. I'm just the turnkey. I walk back and forth to make sure nothing weird is happening and I turn in a little report at the end of my shift, that's it. But, after 5 months it's waring me down. I'm not one of the people who actually...well I mean I don't come in contact with them. I don't know. I wouldn't even be feeling this way normally but there is one inmate. Cell number 1238 prisoner number P122105. He got here in December, cried all day Christmas. That nearly broke my heart. I don't know why though. Just about every prisoner that comes in here cries about how innocent they are. It's like a theme song around her. My daddy was a judge and I am a strong believer in our good nation justice system. But, still, I can't shake this feeling like maybe...
I'm standing outside the 1200 block. I can't go down there yet. Their not done. My Distinguished colleagues are having some "fun" with the inmates. I wanna help these men in some way...no one should have to go through that...but I'm a woman in a man's world, even worse than that a man's prison.
As I finally walk down I hear him whimpering. I can't help it, I stoop and take his hand through the bars. "Do you want me to bring you something?" His lonely sad eyes stare back at me.
"Please get me a lawyer," he whispers. "I'm innocent." I guess I couldn't hide my disbelief of his words, because he said. "Look in my file and then you'll know the truth."
Those words haunted my for two days. I know better than to mess with the prison files, and especially not on the word of an inmate. I say this to myself as I walk down the corridor to the red door marked "Level 1 Security Authorized Employees Only". I'm only a level 2. But I've seen the code punch a hundred times. In less than a minute I am flipping through the files. I see his name for the first time. Alvin Priestly, prisoner number P122105. I brace myself for the horrors that are inside. There are definitely no saints in the 1200 block. I take a deep breath and open it.
Empty. This guy has no record not even so much as a trial date much less a date of release. I can't believe there has to be some information somewhere.
I open the computer files, finally. I read. He was an illegal alien rights activist. Arrested several times, but only for sit-ins and demonstrations. In his last documented trial he claimed he had extortion information connecting gang members to....No, it can't be. Govenor Childs. Well he wasn't Govenor back then. At the time he was the District Attorney! No wonder he has been here all this time without a trial. Childs was trying to silence him.
I need a plan. But, I can't let an innocent man go through those beatings for one more night. Ten minutes until... I gotta think quick. I grab a set of the master keys off of the "Ever Sleeping" head guard. This just may work. In a flash I'm at the 1200 Block trying not to make noise or draw attention to myself. All of the prisoners are asleep stretched out on their cot's. Well, all except for him. He was wide awake and even still had his shoes on.
"Come on," I said unlocking his cell door. Without a word he rose up and followed me.
We ran as quickly and quietly as possible. I knew exactly how to get around without being seen by cameras. As we approached the last door I felt invigorated. I had done more by helping this innocent man escape than I had in all my years of "protecting and serving". I was a liberator of those who were trapped by the system itself. When we sat down in my car. he made a sound like he was choking up. "You..." "No it's ok I believe you I saw the file. You should never have been in there in the first place." "No," he said again. "You made it too easy for me." Before I could figure out what he meant the thin blade slid across my throat. Nothing happened at first but second later the blood spilled out of the wound. That must be a really sharp blade. I thought as he pushed me from the drivers seat. It probably took him years of sharpening on the sement floor. Waiting for a bleeding heart like me to take the bait.
If I had thought to ask someone anyone why his file was empty I would've known that on his last escape attempt he got into the file room destroyed his paper file and contaminated his the electronic copy. The next day the state was sending updated files for our system. His whole history would have been all there. He was faking about the extortion information. He was actually the one getting money from gangs all over the state. His illigal immigrant rights coalition was actually a front for gang activity. He was even connected to the Al Quaida!
The worse part is that he wasn't even getting beatings. He was hurting himself. It was all a show. All a show.
© Unveiling (2006)
I'm standing outside the 1200 block. I can't go down there yet. Their not done. My Distinguished colleagues are having some "fun" with the inmates. I wanna help these men in some way...no one should have to go through that...but I'm a woman in a man's world, even worse than that a man's prison.
As I finally walk down I hear him whimpering. I can't help it, I stoop and take his hand through the bars. "Do you want me to bring you something?" His lonely sad eyes stare back at me.
"Please get me a lawyer," he whispers. "I'm innocent." I guess I couldn't hide my disbelief of his words, because he said. "Look in my file and then you'll know the truth."
Those words haunted my for two days. I know better than to mess with the prison files, and especially not on the word of an inmate. I say this to myself as I walk down the corridor to the red door marked "Level 1 Security Authorized Employees Only". I'm only a level 2. But I've seen the code punch a hundred times. In less than a minute I am flipping through the files. I see his name for the first time. Alvin Priestly, prisoner number P122105. I brace myself for the horrors that are inside. There are definitely no saints in the 1200 block. I take a deep breath and open it.
Empty. This guy has no record not even so much as a trial date much less a date of release. I can't believe there has to be some information somewhere.
I open the computer files, finally. I read. He was an illegal alien rights activist. Arrested several times, but only for sit-ins and demonstrations. In his last documented trial he claimed he had extortion information connecting gang members to....No, it can't be. Govenor Childs. Well he wasn't Govenor back then. At the time he was the District Attorney! No wonder he has been here all this time without a trial. Childs was trying to silence him.
I need a plan. But, I can't let an innocent man go through those beatings for one more night. Ten minutes until... I gotta think quick. I grab a set of the master keys off of the "Ever Sleeping" head guard. This just may work. In a flash I'm at the 1200 Block trying not to make noise or draw attention to myself. All of the prisoners are asleep stretched out on their cot's. Well, all except for him. He was wide awake and even still had his shoes on.
"Come on," I said unlocking his cell door. Without a word he rose up and followed me.
We ran as quickly and quietly as possible. I knew exactly how to get around without being seen by cameras. As we approached the last door I felt invigorated. I had done more by helping this innocent man escape than I had in all my years of "protecting and serving". I was a liberator of those who were trapped by the system itself. When we sat down in my car. he made a sound like he was choking up. "You..." "No it's ok I believe you I saw the file. You should never have been in there in the first place." "No," he said again. "You made it too easy for me." Before I could figure out what he meant the thin blade slid across my throat. Nothing happened at first but second later the blood spilled out of the wound. That must be a really sharp blade. I thought as he pushed me from the drivers seat. It probably took him years of sharpening on the sement floor. Waiting for a bleeding heart like me to take the bait.
If I had thought to ask someone anyone why his file was empty I would've known that on his last escape attempt he got into the file room destroyed his paper file and contaminated his the electronic copy. The next day the state was sending updated files for our system. His whole history would have been all there. He was faking about the extortion information. He was actually the one getting money from gangs all over the state. His illigal immigrant rights coalition was actually a front for gang activity. He was even connected to the Al Quaida!
The worse part is that he wasn't even getting beatings. He was hurting himself. It was all a show. All a show.
© Unveiling (2006)
posted by unveiling at 2:52 PM
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