My First Day of Prison

Nervousness is an understatement. I noticed a rash on my body whenever I transferred to another prison. I observed everything and everyone. I arrived in winter, so it was gloomy and cold. Barely 20 years old with 36 years to serve. I felt alone. I did not know anybody. Only a small guy who bartered his manhood for safety, who I was willing to save, but with his contentment I withdrew. Prison Rape Act (PREA) came decades too late.

Dull colors.

Chipped paint.

Smoky pods.

Evil faces,

Screwfaces.

Strangers asking questions--- where I'm from? Placed in a cell with a guy, not knowing whether he is gay or not created anxiety, making it difficult to sleep. Older guys would whisper warnings: "dude is gay". For the small guy they told me " dude is a booty bandit".

I was screamed on for looking at a newspaper splayed on the table. A lesson of what didn't belong to me taught fast. Everybody had a tough guy attitude. This guy was short in stature. I humbled my tongue and assessed the situation.

I remembered being lined up to go " down the road", a high ranking officer told his subordinates to watch out for this one. Little did he know that he was right in so many ways. He expected trouble. My future-present self would agree, but with a difference, more so good trouble.