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Stephen Poe is sentenced to twelve years. But he only serves two in a twist of fate.


Submitted:Dec 18, 2010    Reads: 500    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   


Prison Floaters
"Stephen Poe, you are sentenced to twelve years in prison due to involuntary manslaughter. You will be given methadone for your heroin addiction, as well as a weekly counsellor."

Fucking HIV positive. I didn't know it until after the cunt had been diagnosed. We had been sitting in my flat up in London, sharing works like a joint, Boysie and me. I didn't know it though, old John Boyce got a check up and I'm the only daft one to share works with him. He still shouldn't have grassed me up the prick. He'd still live for another twenty-five, maybe thirty years, and I'm already being sentenced for his death. Us heroin addicts get killed in prisons, I've seen it on the news, lads like me being strangled because of being a junky. If you're lucky you'll just get a big injection in your arsehole instead of your arm.

I walked into the prison dressed in my blue overalls just like all the paedophiles and mass rapists, all the dirty murdering fuckers. I was shown into my cell by a proper pig, lost half his teeth, probably from fighting all these sick fuckers. I was introduced to my two new cellmates, Mick and Gary. We had a toilet in a corner of the room; just really like a bucket of ice water and couple of "cigars" floating around in it, there were two sets of bunk beds. Mick was a head taller than me. His brown head shone underneath the cell light like a dark, wooden bedpost. Gary was this nasty cunt with a beard and two gold front teeth.

"What you in here for?" Mick looked down at me, blocking the way into the cell. The pig got him to move back and closed the door; I was cornered like a mouse being hunted by a cat. "What you in here for boy? Don't you talk English?" Mick had a deep voice, he sounded like he gargled gravel whenever he finished brushing his teeth. "You first, big man." I looked up at Mick; he smiled, he was greeting my ballsy attitude like an old relative, "I got in a bar fight, put a guy in a coma." I stared at Mick and sized him up. He had legs like a rhino and his hands were like two big shovels, "I was put in here for murder, I'm doing three life sentences, I raped two little girls and their Dad before killing them." I looked at the bunk on the left of the room where the oily voice had come from; Gary was leaning back, reminiscing in the perverse dreams of a rapist. His skin was grey, he clearly didn't get out much. "I'm in for manslaughter, HIV positive, before any of you two try to rape me." I shot Gary a venomous look.
I'd only been in this prison for two years and I knew why people were scared of it. Two people had already hung themselves using trousers as a noose. Gary came in almost everyday with a new bruise or cut, people weren't fond of guys like him. This day we had just come in from the yard and Mick had visitors, I was laying on the bunk opposite the room from Gary when he looked over at me, "You know, everyday I'm in here and I get fucked or punched or scratched," I could see tears faintly glimmering in his swollen, bruised eyes, reflecting the tiny light from the ceiling, "but I know one thing for sure, it was worth all of this."

I stood up off the bunk and faced Gary; he was lying there, still grinning to himself for a little while before he noticed me. The rage was swelling up inside me, I didn't know these little girls but I bet they were harmless angels. Tears of fury burned out from my tear ducts and I clenched my fists so tight that my fingernails were beginning to cut into my hands. Gary stood up from his bunk and we sized each other up, doing a sort of waltz around the room. "You filthy little cunt." I swung straight for Gary and felt my fist collide with his nose, it crunched under my knuckle. I took another swipe, this time I hit his ribs, my knuckle twisted in its place and I felt a sharp pain spread from my testicles, through my body, and up into my throat, pushing all the wind from me and blurring my vision. The fucker got a knee straight in between my legs.

The next thing I felt was his hand pulling at the back of my hair as another hand colliding with my teeth, I felt one of them tear from its root and another chipped and went down my throat. I was pushed to my knees and I could smell the strange scent of sulphur and something else that clung to my throat and made me gag. He pushed my head in the cell toilet; I could feel one of Mick's Snickers being pushed under by my forehead.

The water was as cold as cold could be. It felt like someone was pushing knives into every part of my face they could. My body was breaking into a sweat as a grasped for something, anything. I tried to inhale but instead just felt a small chunk of something slide down my throat as well as a lung full of water. The water inside me was making me cough bubbles of brown. I was blinded by the murky water which stung and clawed at my eyes with its cold hands. I tried to inhale again. Pain. Inhale. Pain. Inhale pain inhalepain inhalepainhalepain. This was it, the end, I felt the cold finally fill up and push into my lungs again, one last time. I thought of all the top quality smack they'd have in heaven, I floated away.




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