Inside The Box
The light shines dimly through the cold bars of my cell window illuminating part of my surroundings leaving the other half dark. A fitting paradox for my current life in Death Row. I am imprisoned by two boxes, one of cold hard concrete and the other of lifeless flesh. There is no light in my life, nothing left to live for nothing left to die for, yet the narrow beam of light shining through the window serves as a mocking reminder of the world outside prison. Worlds, which I will never experience again.
I get off the unyielding, cold mattress of my prison bunk bed and take a sip of the pale colorless, liquid from the small plastic mug on my bedside the remains of yesterday's dinner. I take a moment to look out of the window, staring at the green grass of the prison exterior I often hear my overworked and dying mind wishing that I could have enjoyed the green grass, the clear skies and the fresh air for just a few more minutes of my life. The life I once had
My cell door slams open, waking me from my reverie, and I am shackled to the railing of the wall and led to the mess hall. This has all become part of the mind-numbing routine that takes place everyday. The air in the mess hall is tense as we munch our daily gruel like cattle. This is the Gas Chamber of our lives called so because Tear gas can and will be released from the roof vents for any reason whatsoever. As I silently munch the tasteless slop my red bloodshot eyes meet another pair of almost identical eyes from the man opposite me on the table also silently munching his food. The eyes belonged to the self styled don of California, he ran the gang that killed my family. I had swore that if I ever met him I would kill him, drag his body to the sewer and make him pay for all of his crimes against me and my family. Now after 2 years here I had still not forgotten about all of my past grudges and unfulfilled goals. The eyes mere presence at the table was enough to awaken my slumbering psychotic mind, and it reminded me of everything I learnt on the streets. It was now the time to put it to use
The mere sight of the wretch's sarcastic smirk to my face was enough to fill my mind with hatred and make me remember my vow. He was the don of the community that I gew up in. He was the reason I ended up how I was, it was all his fault and I sowre that one day I would make him pay for his ins. That day is now!
This would be his last sadistic smirk to anyone I would make sure of that! I flung out of control hurling my metal fork with military precision at the cell guard closest to me. As the guard slumped to the floor, the fork through his heart I charged up to the eyes that I hated so much and seized him, as I clenched his pale shoulders in a vice grip I felt my murderous blood flood my veins and I as I hurled him to floor, pummeling him with my fists and feet. Out of the corner of my eye I see guards storming the hall, putting on Gas Masks and taking up positions as the remainder of the prisoners cheering the fight on.
I pay no heed to the guards, I know to well that they won't lift a finger and do anything yet. They will wait for the "Riot Squad" to enter and clear out this brawl until then they will just try and contain the problem. By the time the Kevlar wearing packs of babies arrive it will be much too late. Tear Gas pours through he vents choking us. For a moment I drop to the ground, gagging and gasping for air. As adrenaline fuels my mind I rise, sight my wounded prey and using the breakfast tray as a battering ram, bring him to the floor. I heard his leg break as he hit the ground. I swiftly charge on top of him felling the familiar surge of adrenaline accompanies my anticipation for a kill, this coupled with the sheer pleasure brings a broad smile to my face as I stare down at his wretched face.
As I prepare the land the final blow that will end his miserable excuse for a life, As I glare down at him, I see true fear in his eyes., I can see him fervently praying, to who or what I don't know. The image of his helplessness and the combined pleadings of the humane side of my mind extinguishes my anger and I retract my fist, the Riot Squad seize a chance and crash through the main door and then open fire, the less than lethal rounds slam into my torso throwing me to the ground. As I lay on the ground groaning, the tear gas subsides and I am handcuffed and led out of the mess hall.
I felt no remorse and the prison paramedics placed the eyes on a stretcher and lead his half-dead body out to the waiting ambulance. My mind tells me that I did what was needed; I proved to myself and everyone else that I was still the brutal man I still was. But as I am lead down the concrete walls to the holding pen of the unit, my conscience speaks to me, I have so far ignored it for the last 30 years, but now in my helpless state I have no more will to resist the voice of reason. As it spoke realization overpowered me and I began to reflect. "Sure I had killed my oppressor and proven that I still could fight! but to what gain, I will be lead to the hole and will have my freedom put to zero. I may even be tried for the murder of the dammed guard and perhaps also for the manslaughter of him if that rat dies" What do I have left in my life I had wanted all of life to gain my revenge, what do I do now! Fear floods my veins, "I must escape!" I must break free! If I die this hideous world must die with me!
As they lead me down the hallway I feel my muscles tense as my hatred against the world flowed, and I struggled against one of the guards breaking free of his grasp. I swung my fist against my captors, only to feel the butt of a pistol crash against my skull.
As if to fulfill the guards' own pleasures, they pin me to the ground and then open fire with less than lethal ammo. The rounds impact sending shockwaves of muscle spasms through my weakened body and nerves. I felt one of the rounds crash against my skull and then blackness.
I wake up in blackness, chained to the bed in the padded cell, deep underground beneath the prison I can see nothing, feel nothing, hear nothing but my own breathing! As the shackles that had restrained my mind disintegrated before me, I felt a thunderous vortex of raging emotions fill my mind I knew of my ghastly fate in the electric chair, I knew that day was looming. I battered the shackles, trying in vain to break free! I screamed until my throat was red raw. I screamed in anger against the world, against my shackles but the most prevailing noise was the endless wails of my helplessness. How far have I fallen? how much further can I fall?.
I have nothing left to live for, nothing left to die for. The clothes I wear is the only thing I have left in my pitiful life. The saga that is my will go on and on until I finally find peace in a wooden box inside the prison grounds. Until then my dead mind and soul will restlessly wander with my decaying body through this mind numbing routine that is now my everday life. Until that day comes, until that day .
