As I ran I could feel my heart pounding, I swear almost through my chest, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. I still had a heart and I was still running from them. The hard pavement was filled with a stream of never ending circles that my eyes had been creating from loss of oxygen. As I passed people and buildings, one after the other, I couldn’t help thinking that maybe it was time to give up and turn in, but I’d quickly lose the thought as my mind wandered upon other things like where to turn next. Once and awhile I could hear them coming from all angles until it soon subsided just to start again. I knew prowling for a man like me in New York City would be one giant game of cat and mouse. The glorified thought of rest rushed upon me at once like a giant wave. I knew I had to stop but that would be it, I’d have to surrender then. Six months ago I committed a serious of violent crimes after being crowned Mob’s greatest man by my fellow gang. They were counting on me and although you may not have the experience, my position of authority was one I had to maintain. After seeing my name on wanted flyers and on television news broadcasts I packed up my most prized possessions and fled to New York where I’ve been hiding out ever since.
Up until yesterday things were finally back on track and life was straightening out. That is, until I heard the knock. A police man was pounding at my door at 4 o’clock in the morning. I jumped from my window and ran as far away from that place as could. I checked into an old shabby motel whose bed was full of dust and I bet no one had slept in it for over a decade. The walls were covered in an old floral wall paper stained from lord knows what and the carpet was this awful color that looked ironically like pea soup. The bathroom, well I didn’t even dare open the door to find out what was in there. So there I was, all alone, in this dark, foggy motel room when I see those pretty little red and blue lights flashing outside the tiny oval window. I thought I was done for, but I wouldn’t give up, so I opened the door and ran and was still running after an hour or so but tiredness was consuming my entire body. Approaching what looks to be a nice bench I needed to sit and rest, so risking everything I curled up and fell asleep under a dimly lit sky and the blare of sirens in both ears. I guess you could say things went downhill from there and even farther downhill from that. I awoke to a cluster of men in blue uniforms and funny looking hats staring down at me with prideful stares and pointing weapons.
Edith Wharton's Ethan Frome is often referred to as a classic American novel. Set to the early American rural backdrop, Starkfield, Massachusetts, it weaves the tale of Ethan Frome, a desperate man caught in a dead marriage but passionately in love with his wife's cousin. The story mostly rotates around his agony and desperation in how to morally deal with his desire (affair) and his ...
“Freeze, don’t move!” one yelled loudly. Truth is, I couldn’t move. I was in shock and all I could do was stare. In less than a minute I was handcuffed in the back of a cop car that had a strong stench of sweat and coffee. The officer explained all the stuff they’re required to say that you hear on T.V. only a thousand times, so paying attention was the last thing on my mind. Thoughts that didn’t even belong in my mind started overwhelming and clouding my head like one big blur. This is it I thought, I’m going to prison and who knows the next time I’ll see my family or freedom. We arrived at the jail at 2 o’clock in the morning. I was exhausted and my body ached everywhere. I was in too much of a daze to even try to take in my surroundings but I know when we arrived there were over a dozen people like me waiting to be checked in by the rude lady at the front. They stripped me and took everything I owned, which I have to say is not much. After hours of waiting I finally was put into a cell of my own where I was to sit until the next day when they would figure out what to do with me. Sitting in a holding cell over night was surprisingly a relief. Finally I could get some sleep and not have to dream of people or things coming to take me away, I felt at ease and sleep just came naturally.
My friend Carol had been nagging me to get involved in the prison outreach program of our church’s social service ministry. After running out of convenient excuses, I finally relented. Something about Carol’s persistence broke through my reservations. A petite woman with curly hair and thick glasses, she had an air of quiet intensity and amazing reserves of energy. So one Saturday morning, I found ...
By the next week I was on a long yellow bus filled with scruffy, scary people who were here for the same reason I was. The bus, filled with 47 people, was heading for the Bayview Correctional Prison in New York. As we arrived the court yard was filled with people of all different types playing basketball with hoops that looked like they’d been there since the building was first built in 1934 and balls that were black from over use. The prison was brick and looked bigger than any other prison I had been too. The steps leading to the front were marble and sprawling and gave me a soothing feeling which soon vanished as the reality that I was at a prison snapped back in my mind. The entire place was surrounded with a sky high fence laced with razor wire, protecting what lied beyond. We all shuffled off the bus and entered the massive front gate topped with barbed wire effortlessly and without any energy. Before we could advance we were all separated and told who would enter and who would get back on the bus to go to a different prison. Once those who were told to further on, including me, had gone inside we were checked in using the inmate database, which holds all the prisons information, and given a big orange jump suit, smelling of cheap laundry soap and old food, to put on.
Everyone had their own number which basically replaced your name and was your new identity. My number was F258109 and I was required to learn this by dinner this evening. The once snow white walls were now stained the color of coffee and the bars masking the inmates in their cells were covered in rust and cheap paint. Inmates were flooding the halls, leaning over banisters, sitting at tables, and walking around. Some of which were rowdy and yelling profane things at us new prisoners as a sort of prison treatment. I could feel the negativity of the place throughout my entire body. It’s almost like it consumed the prison and swallowed it whole, from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. We were slowly escorted through the long, dank hallway to our welcoming meeting with the warden, which we would all soon find out is not so welcoming. The room was large and vacant with tiled floors stained with every color imaginable and curtains concealing the barred windows that had quit evidently never been dusted since they were thoughtlessly placed there. There were 8 rectangular tables with 4 green, stiff, leathered chairs around each one. There was a podium in the front of the room where the warden would stand to purpose his speech to us and hanging behind it was a picture of the American flag.
It is 9: 00 in the morning at the Bank of America. Fred, a banker, has worked there for more than seven years. The place is crowded with customers just like any other Saturday mornings. Unexpectedly, two armed men arrive and demand bank tellers to give them money. In the process of robbing the bank, Fred is murdered. Fred's body is rushed to a hospital. The next of kin gives his permission for ...
We were told to take a chair and to not say a word to anyone, all questions would be answered in the meeting and if any of the officers heard a peep there would be consequences. Making a good first impression on the warden was the most important guide line in a prison, he was the eyes and brain of the entire place and he had complete control over everyone. He could make your already grueling experience into something even I couldn’t ponder in less than a second. I knew that talking was not even close to a good idea so instead I thought to myself about how much I didn’t want to be locked up in this place with all these criminals. Of course I was one myself but these people were ruthless and keeping my distance was probably a good plan. After sitting for what I thought to be about 10 minutes the door finally screeched open revealing a bald man in a suit and reindeer tie. He couldn’t be that bad was my initial thought until he started the meeting and I almost couldn’t believe that thought even occurred to me for a split second. “I don’t like any of you until you give me a reason to. I’m not your friend and I’m not here to try to be. This is Bayview Prison where we’re known for our violent inmates and gangs.
Our team here is one of the best and I suggest you respect them because if you don’t you deal with me. I promise I can make your stay here a walking nightmare I have plenty of experience. I do thank you guys though. Crime rate is always up and down and up and down, sometimes we are maxed out with the number of prisoners and other times we have many open cells, but without crime we have no prison.” He stopped for a moment and looked around. I looked around as well wondering if anyone actually just heard what I did. Everyone had an astonished look on their face like they’ve never heard anything like it before. I’ve been to a share of prisons and this was nothing like I’ve ever encountered. After taking a long gulp of coffee and spilling a drip on his white button up he continued on with his frightening speech. “The officers here have little to no trust in you inmates so you will be transported with handcuffs everywhere you go. Depending on where you reside, your daily schedule will most likely consist of breakfast, showers, yard time, cell time until dinner, and then cell time until morning. Inmates who can prove themselves as roll models may earn other various privileges throughout the prison which will be explained at a later date.
... settle in their new environment. They walk thought the prison and learn where they can and ... some sort of surveillance by officers (closed-circuit television or officers who circulate through the population), ... the mass media sugarcoats prisons. The inmates live in a fictional prison called Oswald Correctional Facility, ... to work and be locked in their cells during working hours. Obviously most choose ...
Everything else is simple and you should have no problems” With that he walked out and left everyone to sit in silence, including the 2 officers sitting in the back. After a few moments the officers rose and put hand cuffs on all of us since this was our new way of being transported. It seems like the officers at Bayview power the whole prison. Without all the trained crew they have hired here there would be no power and nothing to hold the prison together so I thought to myself that I should really give these guys a break, they weren’t the ones who wanted to make my stay a nightmare. We shuffled orderly out of the room and back down to the front doors where we were all allowed to gather what few belongings we had with us. I brought a box of pictures of family and friends and a wool blanket my grandma had made for me before she passed away after a heart attack last fall. I know after I leave prison I will never enter the gang world again. Thinking about my mom, dad, little sister, and all my other family makes me a little upset because I know I let them down. Truth be told I never wanted to end up like this and I sort of let myself down as well. As everyone grabbed their things we slowly made our way to our new homes for the next couple months. I then learned that I shared a cell with a man named Mika Jones who was in prison after stealing a car and driving it through an IBM bank. The cells in the prison were filled with people all packaged up and contained within a 20′ by 20′ room. Each cell on my floor consisted of a metal bunk bed topped with a plastic mattress you could tell didn’t cost more than 5 dollars, a metal toilet in plain view of anyone walking by, a small black and white television, and a metal sink to match everything else metal. I walked in as they locked the door behind me and unruffled me. I set down my stuff on the top bunk and introduced myself to my cell partner. “I’m Kevin Marks.”
Prisons as often been indicated, are total institutions. They are total in the sense that much of the aspects of an individuals life is out of his or her control. Within prisons, the human life as we know it is subjected to numerous constraints which include spatial confinement impacting on the freedom of movement. It has often been stated that prisons adversely affect the normal development and ...
“Mika,” he said staring. I could tell he didn’t want to talk so I just shut my mouth and didn’t say another word. I sat and got familiar with my new surroundings while watching some show I’ve never heard of. I sat opening up a new notebook and wrote down my number at least 100 times before I finally knew it well enough to recite. At 5 o’clock the dinner bell sounded with a wheezing ding and we had to wait for an officer to come around and put us in hand cuffs. This would get old fast. We were escorted to the dining hall, the only place containing food and the most run-down of anything else there. There was no doubt in my mind the tables had been there since the place was built. They were falling apart and the chairs around them were badly beaten. They walls were covered in dried up food and what looked like mold. The once pristine tiled floors were now covered in filth and chipped everywhere. I was so hungry that I didn’t even notice the drooping ceiling until after dinner. We got our hand cuffs removed to eat and we walked single file through the line waiting to get our meal. Tonight the dinner consisted of a slab of over cooked meat, a slice of bread, and a helping of mashed potatoes.
As I found a chair next to a few other guys I couldn’t help but notice the food was all the same color but just what I needed to replenish myself. As I ate I carefully watched back in the kitchen through a little opening in the wall. The cooks who also doubled as inmates were busy making our fatty breakfast for tomorrow morning. As we finished we were to dump the remainder of or food into a large black pale and wash our own dishes. We were cuffed and sent back to our cell for the night. The lights go out at 8 and we are not aloud in or out of our cell afterwards. The lights in the prison are powered by a series of solar panels set up in the staff parking lot so it is odd to me that on gloomy days like today the lights don’t go out earlier. As bedtime came upon the prison I was shivering and way to cold to sleep so I stayed up listening to creeks and moans and the voices of other inmates. Some strummed on guitars and others rapped to random beats none of which were actually any good. I hoped that tomorrow in the court yard I’d meet someone I could talk to and call my friend for the remainder of my visit.
Cell Phones in the Hands of Drivers A Risk or a Benefit Ariana Laguna English 102 Professor Barnes/Walter 10 December 2012 Outline THESIS: Unless the risks of cell phones are shown to outweigh the benefits, we should not restrict their use in moving vehicles: instead, we should educate the public about the dangers of driving while phoning and prosecute irresponsible phone users under laws on ...
6 months later…..
After being locked up in Bayview for 6 months I had realized how much I did not want to ever come back. I’m left today and I couldn’t wait for freedom and to have my life back. I’ve been thinking about moving back to Washington to be closer to my family and to hopefully find a job and maybe even a wife. I know one thing for sure, after today I will never be put in hand cuffs again.
As I folded my sheets and cleaned my cell I thought about my first day here at Bayview and I thought about all the experiences I encountered, all the people I met, and how much my mind set had changed. We were told to leave our sheets on our bed and were given a plastic bag for our very seldom belongings. At 12 a police officer finally came around to unlock the door and let me out. We walked down the corridor together as he asked me questions the whole way about what I will change to be a better person and what the major things I learned during my stay were. He told me that he can tell when someone will be back and whether they are not serious about their changes but he told me he though I could do it. He then handed me a few release papers to fill out and walked away wishing me luck. I sat down in a big leather chair; it was the most comfortable seat I’ve taken in months. I filled out the final forms nervously but as fast as I could because I knew my family was standing outside waiting for me. Once I finished up I brought them up to the desk and said my final goodbye. The secretary buzzed me out and I saw my mom standing and smiling as she runs to hug me and I could feel it finally…freedom.
Cell Story Key
• Cell- prison
• Nucleus- warden
• Chromosomes- inmate database
• Ribosome- lunch room
• Golgi Bodies- prison cell
• Mitochondrion- police officers
• ER- handcuffs
• Vacuole- crime rate
• Cytoplasm- negativity
• Cell Wall- barbed wire fence
• Leucoplast- chefs/kitchen