12 Hours of Torture

When a guard came to my cell at midnight and told me I’d be leaving in 30 minutes, I couldn’t have been happier. The 23-hour lockdown in the ADC was grinding my sanity to bits. The food I had gotten was a big lifesaver, but I needed to see some sunshine and feel the wind against my face. Adding in the time I’ve been in the hole in Texas and the two weeks in Oklahoma City, I had been locked indoors for almost five months straight.

In total, the guards had set aside about 40 prisoners, including myself. We were taken to temporary holding tanks to have our identities confirmed. Then we were strip-searched and fed. The whole process took about FIVE HOURS. Afterwards, we were handcuffed and shackled, then taken to a bus for transport.

It was still dark outside when the bus left the ADC. I was incredibly tired, but I couldn’t fall asleep because my bindings were so d*** uncomfortable. In addition, the bus was equipped with the world’s most craptastic seat cushions. After about two hours, my rear end was begging me to seek out other seating arrangements.  I was squirming and shifting positions in my seat to appease my aching buttocks as the handcuffs and shackles dug into my flesh. I was NOT a happy passenger.

Finally, discomfort gave way to exhaustion, and I slept even as the bus driver had Luther Vandross cranked up to max on the radio. I got a couple hours of rest and woke up.

The journey took almost the entire day as the bus made multiple stops to load and unload inmates at several other stops. I was so uncomfortable I wanted to SCREAM, but somehow I managed to hold on. We were fed a crap bologna sandwich with cheese so cheap, I thought that I was munching on orange plastic.

Finally, we arrived at my new prison. It was about 6 pm. Sitting for the entire day had atrophied my leg muscles, and I felt like a newborn deer as I wobbled out of the bus. I was directed to stand outside the intake building in a single file line with the other prisoners. While we waited, one of the cops standing guard made a statement so cruel, I couldn’t believe it.

“Welcome to your new home,” he said.

I was quite fatigued from the day’s journey, but I wasn’t tired enough to let an idiotic statement like that slide. I don’t think the cop meant any harm, but I had to correct him anyway.

I addressed the other inmates in line. “Don’t you EVER call this place “home”! This is just a long-term detainment facility; this is NOT your home. The day you call this place home is the day they break you.”

Yeah, I really said that! Normally I’m quiet as a mouse, but those five little words lit an unquenchable fire in my heart. These cops can force me to make my bed in the morning or tuck my shirt in when I go to chow, but they can’t have my last shred of dignity.

On THAT, I have a death grip.