Post by Stevie Harris on Aug 23, 2016 5:34:20 GMT
Strange things have been happening lately.
I first noticed three weeks ago when the lights started turning off exactly a minute before lights out. When you’ve only got an hour of light left in you cell, you learn to count the seconds like they’re your children. What made me take notice was that it was just that, everything else stayed on schedule. Lights on at 7AM. Breakfast buzzer at 8AM. Yard time buzzer at 10AM. Lunch buzzer at 1PM and so on and so forth.
This prison is run like a well-oiled machine. The guards rely on this stabilisation to maintain control and the inmates mark the buzzers as a way of knowing that the next portion of their life sentence is about to begin. Precisely a minute separated the lights going out and the scheduled time. A lot can happen in sixty seconds, hell – a lot can happen in three seconds but I digress.
After seven days of this missing minute, suddenly it changed. Instead of going out a minute early, the lights began turning off for five seconds at 8:54… For eight seconds before coming back. Warden Steele claims to be investigating the matter but I’m sure he’s just paying me lip service. When I arrived here he attempted to strong arm me for details on his daughters whereabouts but a few well timed accidents later and a letter from his daughter threatening to carve my name into her body and suddenly Warden Steele’s attitude changed. The outside world looked down upon us but my people are loyal.
Seven days ago a guard went missing. Harry Lomax was his name, he wasn’t one of mine but he showed me respect regardless. Five days ago at 8:54 the lights went out for eight seconds as had become the new standard. When they came back, two guards stumbled upon Harry tied up in one of cell block B’s halls. They say he hasn’t spoken since, other than to tell Warden Steele he was resigning. Scuttlebutt is that either an inmate worked out how to open the electronically locked cell doors or it had something to do with the guards. Maybe Harry slept with another guard’s wife.
That’s my theory. Harry was slipping the Houdini to someone’s wife, someone who had access to the controls. Someone who had the patience to wait and flick a switch at the right time in order to make something out of the ordinary seem normal. Personally, I would have just gone to his house and laid a noose out on his welcome mat.
I miss the thrill of holding another humans life in my hands. Watching as they plead and beg for just one more breathe. One more gulp of air. Now days my thrills come from prison gossip.
This place is killing me. I’m losing sight of who I am.
“Steeeevvvvviiieeeeeee”
A voice quietly calls out, echoing around the cell. Harris puts his journal down and holds the pencil like a weapon, leaping off the bed and looking towards the door.
“Steeeevvvviiiieeee. Love your work.”
8:54PM
The lights in Louisiana State Penn go out. Stevie’s cell is illuminated solely by the moonlight extending through the small window provided on the third level of the complex. He turns as the moonlight darkens and smiles upon seeing the figure looking back at him through his window.
8:54PM… and eight seconds.
The lights come back on. The cell of inmate #92S110, Stevie Harris, is missing inmate #92S110.
I first noticed three weeks ago when the lights started turning off exactly a minute before lights out. When you’ve only got an hour of light left in you cell, you learn to count the seconds like they’re your children. What made me take notice was that it was just that, everything else stayed on schedule. Lights on at 7AM. Breakfast buzzer at 8AM. Yard time buzzer at 10AM. Lunch buzzer at 1PM and so on and so forth.
This prison is run like a well-oiled machine. The guards rely on this stabilisation to maintain control and the inmates mark the buzzers as a way of knowing that the next portion of their life sentence is about to begin. Precisely a minute separated the lights going out and the scheduled time. A lot can happen in sixty seconds, hell – a lot can happen in three seconds but I digress.
After seven days of this missing minute, suddenly it changed. Instead of going out a minute early, the lights began turning off for five seconds at 8:54… For eight seconds before coming back. Warden Steele claims to be investigating the matter but I’m sure he’s just paying me lip service. When I arrived here he attempted to strong arm me for details on his daughters whereabouts but a few well timed accidents later and a letter from his daughter threatening to carve my name into her body and suddenly Warden Steele’s attitude changed. The outside world looked down upon us but my people are loyal.
Seven days ago a guard went missing. Harry Lomax was his name, he wasn’t one of mine but he showed me respect regardless. Five days ago at 8:54 the lights went out for eight seconds as had become the new standard. When they came back, two guards stumbled upon Harry tied up in one of cell block B’s halls. They say he hasn’t spoken since, other than to tell Warden Steele he was resigning. Scuttlebutt is that either an inmate worked out how to open the electronically locked cell doors or it had something to do with the guards. Maybe Harry slept with another guard’s wife.
That’s my theory. Harry was slipping the Houdini to someone’s wife, someone who had access to the controls. Someone who had the patience to wait and flick a switch at the right time in order to make something out of the ordinary seem normal. Personally, I would have just gone to his house and laid a noose out on his welcome mat.
I miss the thrill of holding another humans life in my hands. Watching as they plead and beg for just one more breathe. One more gulp of air. Now days my thrills come from prison gossip.
This place is killing me. I’m losing sight of who I am.
“Steeeevvvvviiieeeeeee”
A voice quietly calls out, echoing around the cell. Harris puts his journal down and holds the pencil like a weapon, leaping off the bed and looking towards the door.
“Steeeevvvviiiieeee. Love your work.”
8:54PM
The lights in Louisiana State Penn go out. Stevie’s cell is illuminated solely by the moonlight extending through the small window provided on the third level of the complex. He turns as the moonlight darkens and smiles upon seeing the figure looking back at him through his window.
8:54PM… and eight seconds.
The lights come back on. The cell of inmate #92S110, Stevie Harris, is missing inmate #92S110.
