Rubbing his eyes while averting them from the cheap fluorescent lights that clung to the ceiling, Francis slowly rolled over on his bed, only to have his instincts stop him at the last second as he realised he was on the top level of a bunk-bed. He reached blindly for the glasses he had placed on his locker adjacent, and sighed heavily as he remembered his current lot in life. His ocular sense had been restored not 2 seconds when his auditory sense was bombarded with the resonance of the clanging metal door to his right. "Dorm 5, prepare for chow!", shouted an fat and inept female guard before she slammed the door shut and walked away. "Man, stop with that bangin' door shit. We fucking know when it's time to eat, you fat bitch.", said an inmate from the back while he pulled a blanket over his head. Of course he was 20 seconds too late for the officer to hear his words, and of course him complaining didn't make the dorm any quieter, but the inmates all knew how good it felt to cuss at the prison employees.
Francis collected all the sanity he could muster, put on his shoes, and jumped off the bunk, making sure to land quietly so as not to suddenly wake up his bunkmate. It wasn't that Francis had any respect for him, but rather he was slightly scared of pissing anyone off. He knew damn well that at any moment, any seemingly nice person could snap in a place like this; he'd seen it before. Rolling a cigarette, he walked to the back of the dorm where the toilets and sink were, lit his cigarette, and began to piss in one of the urinals. Carelessly ashing his cigarette into the toilet while still peeing, specks of red ash were shot straight at his junk, causing Francis to squeal. "Fuck, that hurts! SHIT!", he cried. He brushed it off and mustered up even more collectedness; he'd need it. "12 fucking months for drunk in public...", he mumbled to himself. "Only in America.".
He had already served 8 months on his misdemeanor charge, and had figured long ago the system would have let him out at the halfway point of it all. They hadn't. Francis had already given up on the prospect of early release. He was living with violent criminals who, if things had gone their way, would have actually killed the individual they intended to off. He was living with non-violent criminals as well, who had simply gotten caught with drugs and were now serving 7-20 year sentences. But Francis was still living there. His crime? He liked to drink. The reason for being arrested, he knew, was because the American Prison System was a money racket.
"I'm done with this country.", Francis said aloud as he walked to the door for breakfast time. "I'm done with it.".
Then, before breakfast, someone asked him to play Scrabble, and Francis scored 46 points using the word "epoch". TRIPLE WORD, BITCH!
Francis collected all the sanity he could muster, put on his shoes, and jumped off the bunk, making sure to land quietly so as not to suddenly wake up his bunkmate. It wasn't that Francis had any respect for him, but rather he was slightly scared of pissing anyone off. He knew damn well that at any moment, any seemingly nice person could snap in a place like this; he'd seen it before. Rolling a cigarette, he walked to the back of the dorm where the toilets and sink were, lit his cigarette, and began to piss in one of the urinals. Carelessly ashing his cigarette into the toilet while still peeing, specks of red ash were shot straight at his junk, causing Francis to squeal. "Fuck, that hurts! SHIT!", he cried. He brushed it off and mustered up even more collectedness; he'd need it. "12 fucking months for drunk in public...", he mumbled to himself. "Only in America.".
He had already served 8 months on his misdemeanor charge, and had figured long ago the system would have let him out at the halfway point of it all. They hadn't. Francis had already given up on the prospect of early release. He was living with violent criminals who, if things had gone their way, would have actually killed the individual they intended to off. He was living with non-violent criminals as well, who had simply gotten caught with drugs and were now serving 7-20 year sentences. But Francis was still living there. His crime? He liked to drink. The reason for being arrested, he knew, was because the American Prison System was a money racket.
"I'm done with this country.", Francis said aloud as he walked to the door for breakfast time. "I'm done with it.".
Then, before breakfast, someone asked him to play Scrabble, and Francis scored 46 points using the word "epoch". TRIPLE WORD, BITCH!
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