The Inmate Novels & Stories

the prison inmates replies “ I am Attorney , I do not want any thing from you , I have compassion that is why I do what I do . I help in carrying out investigations to help wrongfully detained inmate to acquire freedom once more ” Attorney Ansley explained enlightening the inmate who listened with rapt attention “ You want to help me ? ” The inmate asked in surprise “ Yes I do , I have reschedule a hearing with the court ” the Attorney continued “ what do you want ? ” he asked the attorney

Either way, she appreciated the false freedom given to her. "I understand that this may be difficult, being in a male prison and all, but I don't tolerate any misconduct between inmates so you shouldn't be worried. If anything happens, you can tell one of the officers and I'll deal with the matter personally." He told her as she looked around curiously, whilst trying to match his steps. His words reassured her slightly, letting her breathe a little easier.

"It wasn't my intention to stab him! Please take me to the hospital! Please." "Hey!" One of the inmates shouted. "Keep your voice down, girlie. This place is for people who have committed a crime. It isn't for the innocent. If you don't keep shut, I will shut it for you," the inmate threatened, meaning every single word. Ixora sniffled, tightening her palms around the bars. She rested her head on the bars, crying silently. "Xora!" she heard somebody call out her name. She immediately raised her head to see Nelly running inside.

Now, my existence is reduced to a number, a prisoner stripped of my title, my fortune, and my pride. The inmates from the other cells snore and groan in their own restless slumber, creating a dissonant sound of despair. Some are murderers, some thieves, and others simply lost souls who have strayed down dark paths. I’m different, or at least I like to think so. I’m not a criminal in the traditional sense, but rather a man whose insatiable greed has driven him to betray the trust of his own kind. Ding, ding, ding!

“Let’s talk about it.” **** He was an inmate in a low-level security prison because the crime he committed, well, the crime that he was forced to admit that he committed, was financial fraud. That damned lawyer of his old company ensured him that being a white-collar criminal would put him straight to a low-security prison, and with that came inmates with nonserious crimes. He didn’t have to deal with murderers as fellow inmates. Martin expected a relatively easier time there. He thought he only had to serve the time, and he could be out with no fuss at all in a few years or even months.

It would be idiocy to show him that I was sweating under my clothes. "What's the commotion in there? Two more minutes! Hustle boys! We don't have whole day!" shouted one of the officer stationed at the door. The perpetrator moved out my way. Laughter echoed behind the background from other inmates. I kept a steady eye until I got out.

Not this slow, unwelcome pull that’s sitting heavy in my chest the moment his gaze settled on me. Not for someone like him. “It’s nothing.”I whisper out loud to the empty stall, it’s probably just a bizarre moment. An odd encounter. Within a week, his face will blur into the background, replaced by another injury, another inmate, and yet another story I won’t even bother myself with. They always do. The inmate in Cellblock C isn’t worth my fear. He’s just a man with controlled pain and dangerous eyes. And maybe an unforgettable face? Fuck. I’m doing it again.

He ran this facility with an iron fist, and everyone knew it. The door opened. Officer Ramirez escorted the prisoner inside. Inmate 4729 , Riley Kane, twenty-five , walked in with her usual defiant swagger. She was beautiful in a dangerous way: sharp cheekbones, full lips, long dark hair tied back in a messy braid, and a body that even the baggy orange jumpsuit couldn’t hide. Toned from years of surviving inside, with full breasts and a firm, rounded ass that drew stares from guards and inmates alike. She had a reputation , tough, mouthy, and unafraid to fight back.

The room smells of disinfectant and despair, a potent combination that makes my stomach churn. Beside me, another inmate mutters under his breath, “We’re just numbers here.” His voice is resigned, filled with a weariness that speaks of years spent behind bars. I nod slightly, acknowledging the harsh reality of our situation. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that my identity has been stripped away, replaced by a mere sequence of digits. “Get used to it,” the officer sneers, shoving a set of drab prison clothes into my arms. “This is your new life.” he sneers again and i couldn't help it but to feel the truth in his words.

She still had that cocky smile on her face "That's the point, inmates die in prison like snap." I mimick her, "Get stabbed when you're in the shower, sleeping, eating literally anywhere any time. And no, I'm not a goody two shoes. I can and I will make you suffer in the most painful way you can think off if I don't fine Sedar."