by Missy V.
Something happens. Suddenly, everything is chaos. People are yelling. You are angry, you are sad, you are fraught with emotion. They tell you it’s over. Why is this happening? You are in shock, you are paralyzed, you are frozen in fear. You are guilty. What did you do? They ask you so many questions. They take your temperature, your blood pressure, your measurements. They take your picture. They tell you, you can call someone. You do and now they are worried. What did you do? Why are you there? They are yelling and screaming and crying and so you do to. Someone tells you it’s time to go. You are taken to your own room. The door slams shut and you are left inside. All alone.
There is no color on the walls. It reeks of the history of all the people who have come before you. It will harbor your secret and whisper it quietly to all those who come after you. You cry out and claw at the walls. You want to leave, but you can’t. You are stuck. Trapped by the constraints of time and the hand of fate. Why me? You ask, but there is no answer. Only silence, and the muffled sounds from nearby rooms. There are visiting hours, so people come to see you. There is anger and tears and eventually they must leave you. The door slams shut. The sound gives you nightmares and you cry out. All alone.
Hours and hours go by. The people come by and check on you. They are cold and uncaring. You need to get better. You can learn from your mistakes. Everything happens for a reason. God has a plan for you. It’s all a bunch of bullshit. You want to fight it but you are weary and tired. You crumple to the ground. All alone.
How long does this go on? You want to go outside. Feel the sun on your face and the wind in your hair. Distance yourself from all of the sadness. Forget about the pain. You can see time passing. The sun rises, the sun sets. You try to heal, you’ll be okay they say. You wonder when? It seems time stands still and runs all together. You are confused. You have no focus. You have learned that you have no control. You have learned you are all alone.
Finally, it’s time to go. You get to leave that room and those people behind. But something is missing. You are not the same. You left a part of you all locked up inside that tiny room. You can never get it back. How do you live? How do you go on? One day at a time. It’s easier said than done. You wish you could go back to the time before, but time only moves in one direction. Time moves whether you want it to or not. Time is your enemy. Time is your friend. Regardless, you’re still all alone.
about this piece.
I wrote this piece a while ago shortly after returning to my job at a jail. There is no sound like hearing the cell door slam shut behind you for the first time. I couldn't help but notice the similarities and began to feel the weight of my own life sentence. -Missy
about the contributor.
Missy is mom to Ayana miscarried May 31, 2009 and Chaunchai died at birth on July, 3, 2010.