56 Years
I arose to the sound of the alarm, a hard shrill in the flat morning air, I opened my eyes to see that I was still in the same place that I had been the day before, and the day before that . I got out of my bed and walked over to my window as I always do. I looked out and saw the same sight as the day before. A barren courtyard with a winding pathway through it, the light bright and glinting as the sun rose. I could see a fence and wall in the distance. I turned around a walked to my sink. The white paint on it was cracked and made it look like porcelain. I creaked open the cold shiny steel valve and water came rushing out. It splashed into the sink with a loud clatter that broke the morning silence. Surprisingly I was use to this as it was my daily routine, wake up then look out the window then wash my face. I’m not sure how I fell in to this routine I just did I guess.
I turned my head to the door and it was opened. I plodded to the door as I do every day and looked around I decided whether I should leave now and get my breakfast or if I should fill time with another look out the window. This may be one of the only things that can be different in my life whether I go to breakfast right away or whether I look out the window a second time.
I decided to leave my room which sometimes is a big step for me. When you spend so much time in one place you become attached. Well with a few second guesses I took that first step out. The air was stale and flat but I am accustomed to this as being the norm. I looked down the deep hall and planed my every step, this wasn’t that hard for I usually use the same step pattern every day. As I walked through the cracked halls the light glinted against the white washed walls with an easy tone of uniformity and constancy. The fractured paint on the floor gave way as I ambled down the hallway I heard the boisterous clamor of my many roommates as they awoke and began their trek to the serving room. I always leave somewhat early so I can be one of the first this is to avoid unneeded conflict and to be first in line.
As I filed though the door way the glaring lights shined down on the whitewashed room with the identical radiance as the day before. I walk to the counter and received my food. It was arrange in the same way as it always is. I always looks sort of plastic as if it were pressed out by a huge machine, every meal identical, every meal the same. I went to my table and ate my food I eat it I in the same order first eggs then the bacon and lastly the bacon. I always take three bites and then swallow and then I take a drink of orange juice, and every sixth bite before drinking I wipe my mouth with my napkin whether I need to or not. You may perceive this as a lot of work, to do the same thing over and over again with no discrepancy but it just comes naturally to me its like a drug a drug to get away from what is real. Its something to keep my mind off why I’m here, what I did. I’ve been in prison for 56 years of my life and ill always be here.