My demise, constructively created by yours truly!

BY SIMONE J. SMITH

I knew for some reason that I was going to be transferred to the prison that day.

It was weird. I woke up from another painful nights sleep. I had noticed in the shower the morning before, that I had bruises that were forming on my hips. I had been shifting my weight the entire night, and then I finally got tired and ended up just lying on my back.

I was so used to seeing cockroaches and other bugs that I just ignored them now. I had quickly adapted to my new routine. I could tell by the excessive talking outside the gate that it was shift change time. I secretly hoped Officer Rodriguez was there that day. Just the thought of him brought a smile to my face.

I lay there and waited for them to turn the lights on. I had started taking my shower first thing in the morning, just before breakfast arrived. The other girls were not as alert as me. I think that they had stopped caring. What they found interesting is finding out things about me, and teaching me how to say Spanish words. I was determined to find some type of routine. It was the only way I could remain sane. Systems are everything to me.

The light came on, and I closed my eyes so that they could naturally adjust. I heard the gate open, and I allowed myself to squint. There standing in the gateway was Officer Rodriquez. I quickly sat up and waved at him. He smiled and placed the tray on the ground. He left, and returned a few seconds later with a pot of coffee.

The girls had begun to stir beside me, so I decided to skip my first thing in the morning shower and have breakfast with my cellmates. Before Officer Rodriguez left, he looked at me and said something to the girls. The girls nodded their heads and looked at me. He exited and closed the gate behind him.

“What did he say?” I questioned the young lady who could kind of speak English.

“You transfer today,” she replied. “You transfer to prison.”

The word shot through me like a bullet. I didn’t want to react outwardly, but all of my insides were bound up. I leaned back against the wall and just stared at my food tray. I couldn’t eat anything. I felt empty. I knew that at some point it was going to happen, but I didn’t know I was going to feel like this when it happened.

I excused myself and gathered my stuff to shower. I knew I was going to break down, and I did not want to do it in front of them. Once I drew back the screen to the shower/bathroom, I leaned against the wall, and I cried. I cried for myself, and the fact that I had done some stupid things to get me here. I cried for my parents. I knew that their pain was caused by me. I cried for the part of me that I knew would forever be changed after this experience.

I stayed in the shower a lot longer that day. I imagined all the sorrow washing down the drain with each drop. When my skin started to wrinkle, I turned off the shower, and dried off. I wondered how many tears had been cried in that shower.

The day dragged on, and every time I heard movement outside the gate, my back would tense up. Waiting was the exhausting part. I knew that I had a whole new frontier that I would need to adjust too, and I was not in any rush to get there, but my anxiety was doing a number on my nerves.

A couple hours later (this is just a guess), the gate swung open and Officer Rodriguez stepped through the gate with another guard. He gestured for me to follow him, so I stood up slowly.

As I walked towards him, I felt my heart rate quicken, pounding so hard I thought every one could hear it. Each step I took towards the officers, I knew was a step to my demise; demise constructively, created by yours truly.