I was finally shown to a cell, after being given an orange jump suit and a white t-shirt. It was explained to me that for the first month, if I didn\u2019t get bailed out, I\u2019d be confined to my cell. I was fine with this. I might as well get used to it. And at least this way I didn\u2019t have to be in the cafeteria or the yard with the general population. I\u2019d be less likely to get into trouble this way.<\/p>\n
I knew the chances of me getting bail would be slim. I was sure that in my parents eyes I was already guilty, no matter what Olivia or I told them. I knew Olivia was humiliated and probably didn\u2019t even want to look at me anymore. This seemed fitting as I knew from the beginning that I didn\u2019t deserve someone as perfect as Olivia. I didn\u2019t deserve the unconditional love she showed me.<\/p>\n
And it was probably for the better that I hadn\u2019t had the chance to tell her I loved her. I probably deserved the over whelming feeling of regret that washed over me when I pictured her beautiful face.<\/p>\n
The first few hours I spent in my cell were wasted on memorizing where everything was and getting used to my new surroundings. There was a lumpy and uncomfortable bed along one wall. I could sit on the bed and stretch my legs out to touch the other wall of my cell.<\/p>\n
There was a single flat pillow and one blanket on the bed.<\/p>\n
The only other object was a toilet and sink combination a few inches from the top of the bed.<\/p>\n
I paced the room, trying to chase away the unpleasant feeling that I still had done nothing wrong. I knew I was innocent. But I also knew that I was fighting a loosing battle. There was no way someone with my criminal history and the mistakes I\u2019d made in my past would ever be able to take on a crooked cop and win.<\/p>\n
I sighed and placed my hands on the bars of my cell door. I rested my forehead against one of the cool bars and sighed. I couldn\u2019t see anything from my cell except another concrete wall. I had been hoping there would at least be a clock or something to look at; something that I could occupy my mind with in order to pass the time.<\/p>\n
I heard footsteps coming down the hall and a corrections officer stopped at my cell door.<\/p>\n
I sighed.<\/p>\n
\u201cHanson, your lunch is here.\u201d He informed me.<\/p>\n
I nodded. I was starving, but I could smell the food and it didn\u2019t seem appetizing at all.<\/p>\n
\u201cThanks.\u201d I mused.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll need to step back.\u201d He warned me. His hand hesitated over the club stick at his belt.<\/p>\n
I sighed and backed up, leaning against the back wall, folding my arms in front of me.<\/p>\n
\u201cC-fourteen open!\u201d The officer shouted.<\/p>\n
There was a loud metal clanking and the door slid open slowly. The corrections officer entered the room far enough to place my meal tray onto the foot of my bed and backed from the room. I remained where I was until the door shut and the officer left my line of sight before I sat down on my bed and lifted the lid on my lunch. It was a simple hamburger patty, with no bun and some greasy looking gravy. There were some mixed mushy-looking green vegetables and some watery potatoes. A carton of milk was sitting next to the food.<\/p>\n
I sighed. I guess I had to get used to it. I picked up my plastic spoon and started eating. It tasted awful and it would have been much easier with a fork, but of course I was a felon and wasn\u2019t trusted with one.<\/p>\n
I choked down the meal, and slid my tray under the door for pick up.<\/p>\n
I sighed and dropped down on the bed, dropping my head into my hands. Eating was a small distraction. Now that I didn\u2019t have the distraction, all I could think about was Olivia.<\/p>\n
I could see the expression on her face, the tears streaming down her cheeks and I felt horrible. I was responsible for those tears. I couldn\u2019t close my eyes without seeing her perfect face.<\/p>\n
I stretched out on my bed and shut my eyes, attempting to sleep for a bit. I figured it would pass the time until dinner.<\/p>\n
I wasn\u2019t asleep for very long before there was a loud rapping at my cell door. I recognized the sound of a wooden club on the metal bars.<\/p>\n
I opened my eyes and turned my head to see a bulky female officer at my cell door. \u201cHanson.\u201d She rasped. \u201cYou have a phone call.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shook my head. \u201cI\u2019m not taking phone calls.\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n
The officer frowned. \u201cLast chance, Hanson.\u201d She warned.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t want to speak to anyone.\u201d I replied for good measures. \u201cTell them not to call back.\u201d<\/p>\n
The officer shrugged and disappeared from my sight.<\/p>\n
I figured that I might as well get used to being alone. I was shut off from society, so to make the transition smooth, I\u2019d just jump right in. It didn\u2019t seem to matter who was calling or trying to talk to me. In a few weeks they would forget about me. I just hoped I could forget about them too. I wasn\u2019t sure how long I\u2019d be going away for, but I knew it wouldn\u2019t be a short sentence. I might as well withdraw from society for good. I\u2019d never be able to escape the label of criminal. I would always be one. There was no hope left for me. I might as well give up.<\/p>\n
I shut my eyes again, turned my head to the side and tried to fall back to sleep.<\/p>\n
I spent most of my time sleeping in my cell. I wasn\u2019t even tired most of the time; it was simply an act of boredom. I wasn\u2019t permitted books to read or even paper to write. Several times the officers came to my cell and informed me that I had visitors, or phone calls. Although I was slightly curious as to who in my life still cared, I denied all communication with the outside world. I was wallowing in my own misery, and was getting used to it.<\/p>\n
Soon the days began to fade into each other, and even though I tried to count how many meals I was receiving to tell what day it was, I lost track of time completely. It soon seemed that whoever had been calling and trying to visit stopped trying to contact me.<\/p>\n
The guards stopped trying to be friendly with me. I didn\u2019t speak to anyone, even to politely thank the guards who brought my meals. I spent my time memorizing the lines on the cinderblock walls and singing songs in my head. I soon began to forget songs entirely.<\/p>\n