Rose walks through a day in his life serving his life sentence in the maximum security Wyndon State Prison.
Notes:
I roleplay as this Rose on Tumblr sometimes. There may be more to come.
Work Text:
01:00
A guard inadvertently wakes me up by shining a flashlight in my cell to make sure my cellmate and I are still present.
After a brief pause to make sure the figure above me is truly asleep and not dead or a sack of potatoes serving as a decoy, he moves on.
I fall asleep shortly afterwards.
05:45
I force myself to wake up at this time every morning, about 10-15 minutes before the cells unlock. It was hard to get the timing just right since I don’t have an alarm at first, but most days I manage it based on my biological clock alone.
I relieve myself on the loo while my cellmate is still asleep, trying to be as quiet as possible.
I brush my teeth, splash water on my face, and sit on my bed, waiting for the doors to open.
06:00
The cell doors finally unlock, and I make a beeline for the kitchen area of our cell block. Usually I’m the first to get there, but sometimes I’m unlucky.
Today I have the first go at the microwave and heat up some oatmeal with peanut butter and instant coffee to take back to my cell.
I manage to get in and get out without being caught or harassed by anyone. My cellmate is gone by the time I get back. Likely at the chow hall or showers. I get to have a relaxing meal alone.
07:00
I show up for work in the laundry facility. A few of the driers are down for scheduled repairs.
I spend most of the day lubricating roller bearings, adjusting pulleys, and replacing drum rollers and dryer glides.
This is probably the most relaxing part of my day. It always feels good to be working with machines again.
Still, I can’t believe I only get paid 200 Pokedollars for this nonsense. Guess I’ll splurge and spend a whole day’s pay on some Fresh Water from a vending machine one day.
11:30
Wrap up work in time for count. Try to make it back to my cell without bumping into anyone.
My cellmate is already there in the room by the time I come in. I say a quick greeting to him and reuse the bowl I used for oatmeal earlier for a bowl of cereal and a box of UHT milk.
I rather miss having cold beverages.
11:55
“Five minutes til count time, boys. Be on your bunks and be visible! I repeat, be on your bunks and be visible for 12:00 count or you will get a ticket!”
There’s never any telling how long these things will last, so I get comfortable on my bed with a science fiction novel I used to read a lot as a child.
A guard comes by with a Boltund to check to see if we’re where we need to be.
12:25
Count is mercifully short today. The doors unlock again, and most men begin shuffling over to the Chow Hall for lunch. I say goodbye to my cellmate.
I wait until it’s relatively quiet in the halls before donning my shower shoes and taking my little plastic bucket of shower supplies down to our cell block’s communal showers.
Privacy is important during this vulnerable time. Most inmates wash off either in the morning or just before lockup, but I prefer going in midday when most men are either having lunch or out in the yard working out.
12:40
It’s never completely empty though. I try my best to creep to the other end of the showers opposite a loose group of men that probably had the same idea as me.
The showers are always disgusting. The floors are usually covered in a thick layer of grime, shaved body hair, and bodily fluids. The holes in the shower head I initially chose are so clogged in one that I have to go to another slightly closer to the other men.
This one works, at least, but the hot water is used up. Oh well. It really is a lottery most days.
I hate these annoying timed press buttons. I hate everything about these damn showers. Showering used to be the most relaxing part of my day. I miss my flat so badly just for this alone.
12:46
I try to get in and out as quickly as possible since I have company. Maybe if I’m in and out before they realize who I am, I can avoid a scene.
No such luck. I’m small but not small enough to not be seen past the half-assed dividers supposed to offer a shred of privacy.
They intercept me in the changing room. Thankfully, I still have my towel on.
The large chap says he’s heard of me. He asks if it’s true that I ████ █ █████ ████ █ █████.
I confirm that it is true. He’ll find out the truth either way, so there’s really no need to lie.
He ███ ██ ██ ███ ███ ██ ███ ███ █████ ███████. His buddies ████ ████ ██ █████ ██.
I guess that’s the only thing I’m good for anymore.
13:05
I get back to my cell.
Decide to take a nap since I’m not feeling so well.
14:55
Get woken up by a guard with a Growlithe banging on the cell door. Apparently I have a visitor and need to get processed for that. Time to put on my game face.
15:01
Getting strip searched in front of the guards is the most humiliating thing ever. Probably even worse than getting undressed in front of other inmates.
The female guard’s Espeon stares at me the entire time, its forked tail twitching slightly, possibly scanning the near future to see if I was a threat. The whole process of undressing, getting searched, getting redressed takes about 15 minutes. I’m led to the No Contact visit area so that I can talk with whoever this is.
15:16
Another journalist trying to get the big scoop on my fall from grace. I’m exhausted by now by how many interviews these people keep subjecting me to, but I understand the appeal.
I smile politely and answer all of her questions, no matter how asinine. When she asks me how a well-to-do businessman is fairing in a maximum security prison, I tell her that I’m doing just fine. Part of me wants to believe it, too.
15:46
Visit is officially concluded. I thank the journalist for her time and go back to get searched a second time.
I take off each article of clothing individually and shake them out, then spread every fold and orifice of myself that might be hiding contraband as the guards search my clothes.
The Espeon is still staring at me. Part of me wishes I could have seen into the future for what was in store for me years ago when I confidently asked for the harshest punishment possible.
16:02
Time for tea. Also the last time to get something from the Chow Hall before Lockdown in 2 hours.
My hunger gets the best of me, and I make a visit, despite how terrible the food is and how dangerous it is for someone like me. This place and the Yard are the sites of most stabbings and riots.
Today it’s what I assume to be some sort of beef (I think?) stew with tons of soggy, mealy potatoes and white rice. It looks like something already eaten, but that was par for the course.
I take my little tin of food and try to desperately find a seat at a table not already occupied. No such luck, so I sit at the opposite end of the table of two gents with my approximate skintone.
Thankfully, they ignore me. I eat in peace.
16:38
Go to the rec center to see if there’s anything worth watching on the telly. Maybe I can even catch a match.
My appearance prompts from jeers from a couple of men playing pool, but they leave me alone pretty quickly when I try to pay them no mind.
No League matches are showing today, so I instead turn it to the news.
Apparently there’s some sort of catastrophic Dynamaxing incident playing out in multiple cities at once. I hope that some madman didn’t get news of my own experiment and try to do something similar…
17:45
Lockdown in 15 minutes. Head back to my cell, but my cellmate is busy on the loo. Walk back out again and respectfully wait as long as I can for him to finish up.
17:55
“Five minutes til count time and lockdown, boys. Be on your bunks and be visible! I repeat, be on your bunks and be visible for 18:00 count or you will get a ticket!”
I have to go in at this point. Luckily, my cellmate is now washing up. He nods at me and climbs back on his bunk for count.
When the cell doors close, there’s no opening them again until 6 the next morning, unless there’s some sort of emergency. So it’s best to get as comfortable as you can.
I begin reading my book again. There’s nothing else to do, really.
20:00
Last state sanctioned meal of the day. The small slot in our cell door is opened, and two paper bags are fed through.
It’s a ham and cheese sandwich, a bag of crisps, and a box of milk for each of us.
As per our agreement, I hand my cellmate my ham sandwich and my bag of crisps over to him as well. It’s hard not to feel hungry in here, but it’s a small price to pay for peace.
He hands over his box of milk, and I instead have my last bowl of cereal for the night. The extra box of milk is tucked away somewhere safe, and the bowl cleaned and ready for the next morning.
Back to my book.
21:00
The lights in our cell unceremoniously turn off. “LIGHTS OUT!” the voice over the intercom booms. “QUIET IN THE CELLS!”
I sigh, sticking a popsicle stick into the pages as a makeshift bookmark, and stretch out to place it back on the desk for tomorrow.
I lay down, staring blankly out of the bars, feeling more empty than I ever have in my life.
I’ve long since stopped wondering if my sacrifice was worth it, if this is the fate I deserved, if there’s any hope I’ll be remembered fondly in the future, or at all, even in the present day.
This is my life now. It’ll be my life until the day I die. As unhappy as I am about the notion, I’ve made my peace with it, and have adjusted accordingly.
I wipe away the hot tears rolling down my face with a soft sniffle, and roll back over to try to rest up and gather my strength to face this hell the next day.
And the day after that and the day after that and the day after that…
