Poems Of Prison の小説・ストーリー

Some were mourning about their crops' curling leaves as their usual green color slowly turned into hopeless brown. But no matter how strikingly bright and hellishly burning outside, the jail remained eternally dark and incomparably freezing. It was like the jail was made of snow. Mon couldn't take his eyes off the gloomy face of the other prisoners behind him, clinging their pitiful hands unto the cold iron bars of the jail. Their faces were painted with hopelessness and sorrow as the cave's only light from the torches wiggled wildly, riding the motion of quick footsteps towards the jail's door.

Secured and in their grasps, the Officers pat me down – more like groped me- before dragging me to the back of a transport van alone and left in the dark with my fate unknown. ♔ That is how I become prisoner number five-zero-five-four. There was no trial, no Judge to decide my fate. To the law, I am an unwed fertile female in need of correcting. I needed a strict hand to guide me in becoming a proper female for society. With a sigh, I find that I am last to line up with the other and take a chance to look at the girls in the corridor. Many are like me, here for petty theft or burglary hoping to make a living and find some form of escape from the hell called the Capitol Slums. After our meal,

“Hello, Piper. Long time no see, I mean, f*ck.” If those words were meant to be a joke, it wasn’t funny. Especially when I was now bound like a wild animal, with ropes in numerous lattice knots. My feet dangled above the ground, the fear making me forget my nakedness. The sting of the ropes cutting into my flesh kept me in my senses. I was back in my hell again, but this time, I was in Lenard Lee’s new den in this foreign city. What differed now was how I got into my prison.

"I'm sorry." Larry hurriedly pushed the warden away and fled. The warden straightened her clothes at the door and re-buttoned her clothes. "You will be mine sooner or later, young man, can you resist the temptation?" Larry felt that the whole prison was full of people who were crazy and insane. They were all sexually repressed for years, so they would go crazy when they saw a man, even such a noble prison warden was not an exception. But, shouldn’t she have been married at this age, huh?

(ALEX POV) This prison was cold, not only in the physical sense, but in the emotional sense as well. There was hopelessness in the air and the sound of the metallic doors slamming shut only made my chest feel tight and constricted. I despised this place yet this was the place I came for a reminder of what was taken from me and why I was the way I was.

A prisoner's life is a life of no freedom. Each day, I woke up in the same place and performed the same thing. There is no room for dreams or hopes in a place like this. But still, I couldn't stop myself from dreaming, from hoping that maybe one day I will be free again. If God says that one day I will be free, then I will live to see that day. And even when I finally am free, this fear will linger on, the fear of people and their cruel actions. The tears would not stop as I walked again in slow motion to my cell.

Every day, someone or another person would try to talk to me and meddle with my life as if they couldn’t survive without bothering another person in here. I moved to another place from there, hoping that people would let me be at least here, but I was wrong. Another woman came up to me to ask what division I was in, and what task I was assigned. Having had enough, I walked back toward my cell. Every passing day here was a struggle. It felt like living in hell. If one truly committed a crime so unforgivable, I believe making them stay here was a bigger punishment than awarding them death. This was like death in many ways, but it was a slow death. It takes your life one day at a time, and soon

A future that would be claimed and caged before it ever took its first breath. And if I’d been wrong about her… what else had I mistaken? The prison. The curse. The creatures bound inside it. Myself. How many pieces of this place had I painted in black and white? How many truths had I twisted to make myself feel safer in the dark? I felt the hum of the prison change around me. Not louder. Not darker. But aware. Noticing. Like it had been waiting for me to ask the right questions—not out loud, but in the quiet space between judgments.

Prisoners kept there slowly lost their minds from isolation alone. “You will never again walk beneath the sun,” the elder said calmly. “You will never again shift. You will never again know freedom. You will spend every remaining day of your existence alone in darkness until death finally claims you.” Liora broke. A strangled sob escaped her lips as tears poured down her face uncontrollably. “No…” she whispered weakly. “Please…” But nobody pitied her. Not after what she tried to do. Not after the poison. Not after she tried to kill me.

Helplessness pierced my heart. The chances of rescue were nearly gone. I stroked my belly through the pain, talking to my baby. I prayed that, if it had a next life, it would be born into a pack where its father loved its mother. Then it would be happy. My breath grew faint, my blood turning to ice in my veins. Suddenly, the cage door swung open, and the lights flickered on. The sight of me in a pool of my blood startled the wolf who stood there. I used my last bit of strength to inch forward, whispering, "Help… me."