Life Means Life - Original Writing :: Papers

demeanor Means Life - Original Writing The sly shoves and kicks from policemen didnt bother me. It was the ask on their depends. They turned up their noses as if the smell of me was too unsavoury to endure. Their eyes seemed to darken at the sight of me. The first time it rightfully hit me that I was going to spend the rest of my life in prison was only when they took away my personal belongings. Everything that gave me a sense of identity, of individualisation was carefully listed and lay into that blue plastic box - a vitiate bar which I have loved since I was a weeny lad my keys that never worked first time you twisted them in the clam up my worn and familiar clothes that I refused to throw out righteous because they were old, and my wallet with the picture of - my girlfriend who says she no longer loves me. These small unnoticeable things that made me an individual were stripped away literally and all that was leftfield was me. Me. It mad e me break down right there in the manner while they were removing the laces from my shoes. We dont want any hangings tonight do we? verbalise the ill-humored officer. A humiliating, brutal and invasive search of my naked body followed amid sniggers and egregious comments from the men in blue before being marched to my cell. By this period of time I was beyond caring. A switch in my mind was flicked and I stared straight ahead, silently following the instructions of the uniformed guards neither flinching nor responding to anything anyone said or did. The door slammed shut and I surveyed my new home with its substantial bed and a bucket in a corner. I was placed in solitary confinement for my own security which meant I didnt have to face the other inmates immediately although I realised at some block that I would have to. Solitary confinement - time to give me mobilise about the weeks and months leading up to this point and the crime they say I com mitted.