Life In Prison
By Jessica Parrott
It’s been almost ten years and I know deep down that I shouldn’t be here. Everyday, I wake up surrounded by enclosed steel walls and a solid door that locks from the outside. After the 5:00am count, I stumble out bed in to the cold darkness of the cell, three steps to the toilet. I try to be as quiet as possible so that I don’t wake up my cellmates. I’ve got used to my days being repetitive, I usually spend them either sitting in a small corner next to my bed or writing in my journal and wondering where my family could be. When I was about one or two years old, I got departed from my country because of a war and separated from my family. I have no vivid memory of my parents and I’m not even sure if I have any siblings. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if they were around.
I’ve been put in this cage for a crime that I have never committed nor witnessed. Numerous people described me as the person who committed a vicious murder ten years ago; therefore investigators accused me of first degree murder for stabbing a young man in a parking lot. They told me that they have possession of a surveillance tape from a local drug store near by that captures images of my face. This is highly impossible because I know for a fact that I never committed that murder.
One late night in December, I was awakened by the sound of my cell door opening. As I opened my eyes quickly, I saw two large police officers with black masks covering their faces standing at the foot of my bed. I knew they were officers because the front of their jackets had a cop badges and they said “police officer” on them. Before I could even think, they grabbed me and threw me to the floor. Each taking their turn, they punched me over and over again until I could feel warm blood pouring down my face. When they were finished, they rolled me over on my side and started tying my wrists together with a rope. They tied the rope so tight that it started cutting my skin. I had never felt so weak in my life; I thought I was about to die.
They took me out of my cell and threw me in a large old rusty black van with no windows. One of officers got in to the drivers seat and the other one was riding in the back with me. I think I fainted at this point because I can’t quite remember the entire ride. When we arrived, I got woken up by a painful slap in the face. They viciously grabbed me and brought me downstairs under a small building that almost looked as if it could have been abandoned. Tears starting shedding down my face uncontrollably as fear filled my body. The place that they brought me too was extremely dark and chilly. They threw me in an old wooden chair and starting lighting a few candles to brighten up the room. Then they started questioning me.
“So, my friend… how did you do it?” one of the officers said while lighting up his cigarette.
“I don’t know what you are talking about” I replied nervously.
“You bloody bastard! You damn right know what I am talking about! Now tell me how you did it before we kick your ass once more”
I didn’t know what to do or say at this point. I decided it would be best to not say anything at all.
One of the officers stood up in front of me and spit in my face. Then he said “So you’re telling me that you didn’t escape your cell and murder another poor victim? Because we have a video of you knifing a cashier and robbing a convenience store you bastard”
Then I said “How is that even possible if I have been locked up in a prison cell for over ten years?”
One of the officers walked towards the other end of the cold room and then he vanished in to the darkness. A few minutes later, he came with an old beat up television and a VCR that looked like it hadn’t been used for a long time because it had layers of dust. He plugged the television in to the wall, put in a tape and pressed play. The tape replayed the robbery and the murder at the convenience store. When I looked at it closely, the murderer in this video looked exactly like me. I thought to myself, how can this even be possible?
Then I spoke up and said “That’s not me. No, no, no … it’s impossible, I wasn’t there.” The officer laughed and said “You damn right were. You will regret your decision if you don’t tell me how you did it”.
“I didn’t do it” I told him
“Alright then” one of the officers said laughing. Then they stood up and grabbed me, my arms still tied up by the rope. They threw me in to the rusty old van and drove me back to the jail. When we arrived, they brought me down underground, where I had never been before. Then they told me that I was being placed in solitary confinement because I am too harmful to society. They said that were going to go inspect my old prison cell from top to bottom to figure out how I committed the crime.
A few days had passed in solitary confinement. My cell is one of eight in a long hallway. From inside, I can’t see anyone or any cells. This is where I eat, sleep and exist for most of the day and I get the privileged of going out in to a small concrete yard alone for an hour a day. The only noise I hear during the day is the sound of a toilets flushing, keys retelling and inmates shouting to each other from cell to cell.
On the seventh day in solitary confinement, I woke up to the sound of two officers talking to each other. I try to make the less noise as possible so that I can hear their entire conversation.
I heard one of the officers say “It’s impossible, we checked high and low and there is no way he could have possibly escaped his cell”
Then the other officer replied “We’re going to have to reopen this case and do a little more investigation because this crime doesn’t make any sense at all”.
On the 15th day in solitary confinement, two officers, without masks, came down to my cell to talk to me. They told me that they investigated the convenience store and found finger prints that don’t match up to mine. I didn’t say anything at this point. He told me that he was going to do a little more investigation and then he would release me if everything went well. Before he left, he asked me if I had any siblings that I knew about. I told that I have no vivid memory my parents because I got separated from them when I was about one or two and I don’t even know if I have any siblings or not. Then the officer left without saying anything.
Two weeks had gone by and I was starting to lose hope. On the 35th day in solitary confinement, a man that I had never seen before came down to talk to me.
“Hey.” He said “I wanted to come down here personally to apologize. You probably don’t know who I am.” He said. Then he paused for a second and took a deep breath “I am the president of this jail, and I know that your life has been extremely unfair and that you never deserved to be here in the first place. After several DNA tests and investigations, it turns out that you have an identical brother that looks exactly like you.” And this is when I lost my mind. I have never been so mad before. Then he said “We should have done more tests at the beginning….”
And at this point, I had way too much adrenaline built up inside of me and, before I knew it, the conversation was over then I had to spend another ten years in solitary confinement.
It’s been almost ten years and I know deep down that I shouldn’t be here. Everyday, I wake up surrounded by enclosed steel walls and a solid door that locks from the outside. After the 5:00am count, I stumble out bed in to the cold darkness of the cell, three steps to the toilet. I try to be as quiet as possible so that I don’t wake up my cellmates. I’ve got used to my days being repetitive, I usually spend them either sitting in a small corner next to my bed or writing in my journal and wondering where my family could be. When I was about one or two years old, I got departed from my country because of a war and separated from my family. I have no vivid memory of my parents and I’m not even sure if I have any siblings. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if they were around.
I’ve been put in this cage for a crime that I have never committed nor witnessed. Numerous people described me as the person who committed a vicious murder ten years ago; therefore investigators accused me of first degree murder for stabbing a young man in a parking lot. They told me that they have possession of a surveillance tape from a local drug store near by that captures images of my face. This is highly impossible because I know for a fact that I never committed that murder.
One late night in December, I was awakened by the sound of my cell door opening. As I opened my eyes quickly, I saw two large police officers with black masks covering their faces standing at the foot of my bed. I knew they were officers because the front of their jackets had a cop badges and they said “police officer” on them. Before I could even think, they grabbed me and threw me to the floor. Each taking their turn, they punched me over and over again until I could feel warm blood pouring down my face. When they were finished, they rolled me over on my side and started tying my wrists together with a rope. They tied the rope so tight that it started cutting my skin. I had never felt so weak in my life; I thought I was about to die.
They took me out of my cell and threw me in a large old rusty black van with no windows. One of officers got in to the drivers seat and the other one was riding in the back with me. I think I fainted at this point because I can’t quite remember the entire ride. When we arrived, I got woken up by a painful slap in the face. They viciously grabbed me and brought me downstairs under a small building that almost looked as if it could have been abandoned. Tears starting shedding down my face uncontrollably as fear filled my body. The place that they brought me too was extremely dark and chilly. They threw me in an old wooden chair and starting lighting a few candles to brighten up the room. Then they started questioning me.
“So, my friend… how did you do it?” one of the officers said while lighting up his cigarette.
“I don’t know what you are talking about” I replied nervously.
“You bloody bastard! You damn right know what I am talking about! Now tell me how you did it before we kick your ass once more”
I didn’t know what to do or say at this point. I decided it would be best to not say anything at all.
One of the officers stood up in front of me and spit in my face. Then he said “So you’re telling me that you didn’t escape your cell and murder another poor victim? Because we have a video of you knifing a cashier and robbing a convenience store you bastard”
Then I said “How is that even possible if I have been locked up in a prison cell for over ten years?”
One of the officers walked towards the other end of the cold room and then he vanished in to the darkness. A few minutes later, he came with an old beat up television and a VCR that looked like it hadn’t been used for a long time because it had layers of dust. He plugged the television in to the wall, put in a tape and pressed play. The tape replayed the robbery and the murder at the convenience store. When I looked at it closely, the murderer in this video looked exactly like me. I thought to myself, how can this even be possible?
Then I spoke up and said “That’s not me. No, no, no … it’s impossible, I wasn’t there.” The officer laughed and said “You damn right were. You will regret your decision if you don’t tell me how you did it”.
“I didn’t do it” I told him
“Alright then” one of the officers said laughing. Then they stood up and grabbed me, my arms still tied up by the rope. They threw me in to the rusty old van and drove me back to the jail. When we arrived, they brought me down underground, where I had never been before. Then they told me that I was being placed in solitary confinement because I am too harmful to society. They said that were going to go inspect my old prison cell from top to bottom to figure out how I committed the crime.
A few days had passed in solitary confinement. My cell is one of eight in a long hallway. From inside, I can’t see anyone or any cells. This is where I eat, sleep and exist for most of the day and I get the privileged of going out in to a small concrete yard alone for an hour a day. The only noise I hear during the day is the sound of a toilets flushing, keys retelling and inmates shouting to each other from cell to cell.
On the seventh day in solitary confinement, I woke up to the sound of two officers talking to each other. I try to make the less noise as possible so that I can hear their entire conversation.
I heard one of the officers say “It’s impossible, we checked high and low and there is no way he could have possibly escaped his cell”
Then the other officer replied “We’re going to have to reopen this case and do a little more investigation because this crime doesn’t make any sense at all”.
On the 15th day in solitary confinement, two officers, without masks, came down to my cell to talk to me. They told me that they investigated the convenience store and found finger prints that don’t match up to mine. I didn’t say anything at this point. He told me that he was going to do a little more investigation and then he would release me if everything went well. Before he left, he asked me if I had any siblings that I knew about. I told that I have no vivid memory my parents because I got separated from them when I was about one or two and I don’t even know if I have any siblings or not. Then the officer left without saying anything.
Two weeks had gone by and I was starting to lose hope. On the 35th day in solitary confinement, a man that I had never seen before came down to talk to me.
“Hey.” He said “I wanted to come down here personally to apologize. You probably don’t know who I am.” He said. Then he paused for a second and took a deep breath “I am the president of this jail, and I know that your life has been extremely unfair and that you never deserved to be here in the first place. After several DNA tests and investigations, it turns out that you have an identical brother that looks exactly like you.” And this is when I lost my mind. I have never been so mad before. Then he said “We should have done more tests at the beginning….”
And at this point, I had way too much adrenaline built up inside of me and, before I knew it, the conversation was over then I had to spend another ten years in solitary confinement.
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