Life in jail

By , vista, CA
Dear Diary,
Life in jail is horrible, I still remember that the first step I arrived at the jail. It was dark, scary, the smell was nasty. I could hear some miserable shrieks once in a while from others prison houses.
There was no comfortable bed as before in my room. The bed made with wood, I tried to lie on the wood bed. A sliver on the wood scratched my back, blood spread out of my back constantly. No quilt, no pillows. There were no lights, darkness filled all over the prison house after sunset. Though, there was a little window in the corner.
The floor in the prison was disgusting. You could see dirt all over the floor. Bugs walked on the floor and flew around. The smell from the bathroom was nasty. The bathroom was the crudest bathroom I have ever seen before. You could only use a minute cold water to shower even in a big snowing winter night, and, the running water was soil color.
I couldn’t ever sleep at night until I got used to it. Arguments at midnight, fights before sunrise…The prisoners got whipped by the supervisor thousands of times every night. I was whipped by the supervisor once I didn’t finish the foods. Flesh came out from each part of the bleeding wound on my body. The foods in the prison were nauseating. Once I smelled it, I kept vomiting. You could not even image how the foods looked like, spoiled and turn sour. Lightning flashed through the air. A shriek pierced the air.
I was going crazy after I went through these cases and the environment. I started hitting the wall thousand of times every single day though my hands were blending. I started breaking the floor and digging like a crazy dog. I tried every way I can image to get out of the prison. Then I started arguing with the prisoner in the prison near by me. I cried out loud like I heard the prisoners were crying during the night before. I could not control my brain, my wounds were immense. I was scared and lonely. How can I spend fifteen years like this in the prison? Painful and cruel, without love and freedom.
I had been doing these crazy things for five years in prison. I started rethinking what caused this life right now. I worked as an English teacher in a high school. I was articulate before I went to jail. Because I had no experiences about teaching, after the principal of the school got the data, eighty-five percent of my students failed my class, so the principal discharged me from the school. This was my first job, I was getting so mad. Why doesn’t he give me a chance? I met the principal and tried every way to get back my job. Then he started arguing with me and pushing me, I got so angry. I couldn’t control myself at that moment. I took a knife that was near the fruit plate. My brain was empty, I killed him without control, after I noticed what I did, I was speechless. And the police came.
I was in prison for fifteen years, it was painful. The first five years I was crazy and the last ten years I planned what I needed to do next. I want to work as a psychologist in prison to help those prisoners like me. I would like to figure out what their mind and what to do after you leave the prison. I can understand their thoughts because I had experienced what they are experiencing now.





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