***march 2005 – Life is hard in prison

 

Life is hard in prison. I don’t know why they decided to put me in here, after they cured my mind. I guess that I still have a sentence to do, before they put me back into society.. or something. They don’t wanna tell me anything.. I think this is weird, because the other inmates, well the ones that I have spoken with, they all do have a sentence. Most of them have life sentence, or 20 to 30 years or so.

There are a lot of weirdo’s and psycho’s in jail. From the beginning I kept myself for a bit aside of the rest, watching. I don’t want to say something wrong or something, first I want to know how the code of conduct is for a bit.

Firstly, the guards don’t seem to care if you die or not, they don’t protect you when you get in a fight for example. Only when the fight gets too big they interfere with it. Secondly, it is natural selection in here. We get only a little amount of food and even with this we have to work long hours in some mine. Others have told me about giant spiders that like to eat people, I don’t know if that is true. Maybe it is just a fairy tale to scare off others. I’m afraid of spiders..

Yesterday I had a fight with a man. He was staring at me all the time, then he started hassling me. I kicked him in the balls but even this wouldn’t stop him. I have beat the hell out of him.. maybe that is one of the few good things from my past, at least I have been taught to fight well enough. Well enough to defend myself in this dreaded prison.

Later yesterday there was this weird guy. He walked straight to me, wearing some black armor also on his face. Several times there were people like him that keep staring at me all the time, I don’t know why. This guy started talking to me.

“What is your name?”, he asked.

“Who are you?”, I asked, “And why do you want to know my name? Look it up in the database and besides we don’t seem to have names here. We have numbers.”

Then he put off his helmet. His face.. it made me kinda emotional although I didn’t recognize him. He also had some weird thing in his hand.

“Your name.”, he repeated.

“Aaricia Silverstar.”, I then said to him, “Please tell me, how long is my sentence.. and who are you!”

“I’m a friend.”, he put a hand on my shoulder then he left, back through the gate.

“See you soon Aaricia.”, he said.

“Goodbye.. whoever.”, I replied with a sigh.

 

I feel lost I don’t know why. It’s like I miss something. Sometimes I feel so much rage in myself. I think it is the stress from the past.. but what does it matter, what does it matter if I maybe have to stay in this prison for the rest of my life. Will I?