Running Innocent - Part 3 – Prison

Continued from:  http://allpoetry.com/poem/2700546 

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The heavy door slammed shut behind Richard and his escorts, as he was ushered forward towards an inner door. His eyes gradually accustomed to the dark inside the building. As the inner door opened to what he could only imagine was a reception room for the prisoners, another prison guard appeared behind the glass screen, which reached from one side of the room to the other above the ‘reception desk’ in front of them.
The formalities and paperwork to admit him seemed to take forever but Richard stood firm, he was determined not to give in to his feelings of trepidation. Finally he was ushered into a ‘holding room’ and the door locked closed behind him.
The room was bare of furnishings, apart from a bench seat attached firmly to the light green painted walls. His eyes were drawn to the etchings and gouges in the relatively new plaster where previous occupants had immortalised their passage through the system for all newcomers to see. A grimace crept to his lips as he read the words left behind by a previous victim of the poll tax system, “Maggie the tyrant, killer of decent men”.

His thoughts were brought back to reality as footsteps sounded outside the door, he turned as the sound of keys turned the lock. The door opened revealing two guards who had arrived to lead him to his next destination where he was searched fully. Removing all his personal possessions they were placed into a polythene bag, his personal clothing was also folded and placed inside, the bag finally sealed and signed for. These were then taken and placed into a shelved vault for safekeeping. Despite the humiliation of this ‘stripping’ Richard remained tight-lipped and followed the instructions given to him.
Having then dressed in the prison issue clothing, he was handed a sealed package, which he later discovered to contain cutlery, crockery plus shaving and hygiene items to use while he was incarcerated. In another room, he was handed two blankets.
Laden with his prison necessities, he could do nothing more than follow the guards wherever they led him.

“Right McDowell, come with us, you are to be placed in block ‘B’ there’s no room in ‘C’ block for you, but you’ll be fine there.” Said one of the guards, then turning to the second guard mumbled a few words which Richard could barely hear but was sure by the tone that it had to do with ‘overcrowding already’ in the new prison.

With that information slowly sinking in, Richard was ushered out of the door and though what seemed like endless rooms, corridors, and stairways until finally the door opened to the main hall of the prison itself.
A cavernous ‘room’ opened up to him, the likes of which he had previously only seen in films on TV. The central area was completely open to the roof, where skylight windows covered with bars allowed small shafts of sunlight to the floors below.
There were three levels each side of the room; the full length of the walkway at each level was enclosed in caging and steel stairways led from one level to the next.
Filtering through the echoing silence of that hall came the murmuring of voices which faded as keys clanked in locks and footsteps sounded along the metallic flooring.

Finally reaching the third level, the guards stopped in front of an open door and turned to Richard, ushering him inside. With barely a word the door banged closed behind him and he was left in the solitude of the cell.

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Richard stood there as if in a trance listening as the footsteps faded along the walkway and back down the stairs, hearing the steel gates being unlocked and locked again as the guards disappeared into the depths of the hall.

The cell itself was small measuring about nine feet deep and five feet wide.
There was a bed along one wall and a worktop sticking out from the opposite wall, at the far end was a small hand sink and a toilet, and two shelves attached to the wall, filling the width of the cell. It was clean, but cold, clinical in its feel with a single light embedded into the centre of the ceiling and behind a steel grille.

He must have stood there for a full five minutes before he moved to place his package and blankets onto the bed. It was then, that the full reality hit him. He was locked in, and here was where he had to stay. His head sank towards his chest with a great sigh as he slumped down onto the cold mattress. The past few hours had taken their toll on his nerves and he felt exhausted. Closing his eyes, he fell into a fitful sleep with images of his flat back at home and Lisa, the smell of the coffee permeated into his mind along with imaginings of Lisa hearing the news of his being sent to prison, wondering if she would cope whilst he was inside. His dreams troubled him more than he would ever admit to when awake, convincing himself that he was here on principal and wouldn’t change his mind.

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The following morning came with a start at 7.30 when the lights were switched on to full brightness and an alarm sounded to waken the inmates of the prison hall.
It took a few minutes for Richard to realise where he was and sat up with a shiver at the cold air. The sounds of booted feet along the walkways grew louder, and voices began to rise in tempo as the morning started. An announcement boomed out through speakers round the hall that prisoners were to prepare to leave their cells for breakfast in the lower hall.

At 8am the cell doors were unlocked automatically allowing the prisoners to leave and move down the walkways to prepare to start their day. Richard watched rather unsure of what to do next, when a prison guard appeared at his door, “Come on, move it, or you don’t get breakfast. Hurry up there”
Richard quickly gathered his crockery and cutlery and moved out into the stream of men moving past his door.
Breakfast passed quickly, no one spoke to him, but he received a few quizzical looks from other prisoners to which acknowledged with a nod.

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It wasn’t long before Richard realised that he had been placed in a more secure part of the prison. Block ‘B’. He shouldn’t be here, he should be in block ‘C’ and not in amongst these more hardened criminals, men who had committed serious crimes, men who were possibly dangerous, men who wouldn’t think twice about setting on to another prisoner, just because they had looked at them in the wrong way.
But there was nothing that could be done, the prison was full, and there had been no space to put him in the right block in amongst people of his own kind.
This knowledge made him wary, and he vowed silently to keep his head down and out of the way of the other inmates, he could surely do that for just three weeks…..couldn’t he?



To be continued: