Locked up
My cell number was 21. It was so small. There were two other guys there already, and they weren’t happy to see me.
I got the top bunk – the hottest one. There was a tiny triangular table in the corner. And two buckets. One for washing and one for, well, you know what.
Wake up! Wake up!
Every morning, we had to get up at dawn. We argued about who could wash in the bucket first. I was always last. Wash, hold your nose, and went to another block to empty the buckets - eew!
Then there was a prisoner check. The guards would inspect every cell to make sure no one had escaped during the night… I wish I had. Then we had breakfast, sometimes with fish, vegetables and potatoes. It was a time when I thought life wasn’t that bad.
Each day we got to go into the yard and do some exercise. The rest of the time we had to do works like cleaning and laundry. That was good to kill time here within the wall.
I was particularly careful not to break any prison rules, or else you could be put on rice and water for up to week.
Getting out
The days passed. One by one. I counted the hours. The seconds. All I wanted was to get out. I longed to get home. See my mum. And my crazy sister. I missed them so much.
When my last day came. I was terrified I would do something wrong, or they would change their mind. My cell-mates were still there. We never became friends, but somehow we got along. I still don’t know what they had done.
I got my bag of stuff back and changed into my old clothes.
When I walked out, I was so relieved. The nightmare was over.
Disclaimer
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious.