January 12, 2025 • 20 mins
What goes on behind closed doors ranges from madness to badness, trauma to terrifying, and funny to intoxicating...
During the three and a half years I was in prison I wrote over a million words by hand. Tales From The Jails is a contemporaneous account of my life, and attempts to thrive rather than merely survive, whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed. The events have not.
This is a Jekyll & Pride production in association with Keyhole Productions.
Producer: Trevessa Newton
Director: Kris McDonald
Title Music taken from The Confession, on the album Crimes Against Poetry (written and performed by The Shadow Poet, produced by Lance Thomas)
Copyright Jekyll & Pride Ltd 2024
@jekyllandpride2023
@theshadowpoettsp
Mark as Played
Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
During the three and a halfyears I was in prison, I wrote
(00:03):
over a million words by hand.
Tales from the Jails is acontemporaneous account of my
life, and attempts to thriverather than merely survive
whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed,but the events have not.
Episode 16.
(00:24):
Slashings, Stabbings Spice.
What goes on behind closed doorsranges from madness to badness,
(00:48):
trauma to terrifying, and funnyto intoxicating.
The list of descriptive wordscould fill this page, and I
could turn it over and do thesame again.
But what goes on behind closeddoors is a world beyond our
normal imagination.
A bit like a deranged version offalling down the rabbit hole on
a bad trip and realising it'snot what you thought or
(01:11):
expected.
Pad mates.
Almost sounds romantic when yousay it.
A bit like Friends, but a prisonversion.
The reality is the atmosphere isoften intense, and living with a
stranger in here is highlyunstable at best.
Without wishing to be graphic,where or how does one begin to
(01:33):
describe the horrors that takeplace behind the steel door?
What are the secrets that mendare not speak?
And what are the horrors thatthey speak of too freely?
Sadly, but honestly.
It's a place where men cannot betrusted, cannot be believed, and
most certainly cannot beconfided in.
To be fair, I'm sure prisonersare just as wary of me as I of
(01:56):
them.
The more you're settled within agroup or pack, the less hassle
you receive.
Although, I'm not sure that isguaranteed.
But if extreme mental healthproblems and deep rooted
behavioural issues aren't badenough amongst the general
prison population, then whatabout the career criminals with
violent tendencies dropped inwithout notice as your padmate?
(02:19):
What do you do?
If there are rapists, abusers,murderers and generally fucked
up angry people sharing aconfined space with you, what do
you say?
Maybe t hey have a drink ordrugs problem.
Maybe they have a meds issue.
What do you do?
But worse who cares?
(02:41):
What do you do if your padmatelikes to indulge in spice, which
almost guarantees mayhem anddrama will follow?
What do you do if both of youare trapped in the cell together
and are polar opposites?
Who chooses what you watch onthe TV?
What time its lights out?
The cleanliness of the cell?
And what if the other personreceives unwanted visitors on a
(03:02):
regular basis?
Madness on the wing spills intocells like water balloons
bursting open.
A man can be caught between arock and a hard place very
easily.
What if your pad mate is a livewire?
Eyes glazed with psychosis thatscares a man with just one look.
(03:24):
You can end up with a cellmatewho shouts through the door more
than he sleeps in his bed.
It's also very easy in here,when the lights go out, to let
the darkness consume you.
A man can think he is copingwell, when the reality is the
wheels may not have come off,but the wheel nuts are missing.
(03:46):
Daily, I see tensions turn intoflare ups, which turn into
violent episodes.
Heroics in here come with scarsand can place unwanted targets
on your back.
I have enough time in here tosit and wonder.
How is all this possible?
Who allows this to take placeand why?
I think of this regularly.
(04:09):
Who and why?
Imagine, I'm in a place costingpotentially£50 million a year to
run,£40, 000 per head to a largeextent, funded by the taxpayer,
and no one cares about any ofus.
There are some officers who showbrief moments of compassion, but
they're rare.
(04:29):
Some of the lads care but I fearthey're more concerned what the
other lads may think, and soremain quiet.
Standing back in situationsrather than stepping forward.
Being singled out as a do gooderisn't a great title in prison.
I think the lads have worked outI don't follow or run with the
pack.
I make my own decisions andwon't be swayed by the mob
(04:52):
mentality.
I follow my own path as best asI can under the circumstances.
Some wish to derail that.
While others watch on with quietcuriosity.
I've noticed that many of thelads who are doing the
intimidating are the ones whoseemingly also get too close to
officers.
(05:12):
How ironic.
It's mad how it works.
They can be so cruel to fellowinmates, yet suck up to an
officer like they're giving thema blowjob.
There is no rehabilitation.
It is only a word.
A soundbite for politicians.
Marketing people, and quangostapping into the pots of funding
and pretending they know whatthey're talking about, whilst
(05:34):
the reality in here is that theprison system is broken.
We are the scum and scourge ofsociety, and as such are treated
no better than vermin.
Ironically, I'm not sure thepublic is aware of just how much
it's costing, and, how poor theoutcomes of rehabilitation are,
because there's no sign ofmeaningful activities or
(05:56):
programs to learn anythingpurposeful.
A large proportion of lads areon remand, waiting for trials.
The majority are conspiracies.
Less than three months in and Ican see the authorities and
prosecution service havecombined to deliver a formula
for one sided success.
(06:17):
I fear, many like mine, areunsafe convictions.
But it seems impossible tochallenge.
The number of guys who stepforward and speak to me,
personally and discreetly, isgrowing.
Trust is a limited commodity inhere.
I can sometimes ponder for ages,how do these people conduct
(06:41):
themselves in the outside world?
It's clear to see, mostobviously have problems with
authority.
Many can't process simpleinstructions or requests.
The majority conduct themselveslike delinquent teenagers, but
they're in men's bodies.
They break and smash orintimidate anyone or anything
(07:03):
just to get their own way.
They don't ask, they take.
And try to resolve small thingsand it's blown out of all
proportion and into a dramaticfireworks display.
When a person confides in me, Itake it seriously.
Mistrust in prison can turn outto be deadly.
(07:25):
Behind closed doors, there is noescaping one's fears and
feelings within.
You are not alone, not even withyour thoughts.
Any of the day's events floodthe mind once behind the door,
and you decompress on your bunk.
Every day is like a SpaghettiWestern, where almost everybody
is a villain, even if they wearthe Sheriff's badge.
(07:47):
The lads pull me about how Idescribe things, and everybody
goes on about my confidence.
Anything that is different aboutyou, anything that is good,
well, the horrible ones, they'lltry to extract that from you by
any means.
If it's not intimidation, thenit's humiliation.
It never stops.
(08:08):
There is no beginning becausethere is no ending.
It's worse than purgatory.
However, I try my best to remaintrue to myself, but it can be
difficult.
Luckily, I spent years inconfusion, searching to discover
who I truly was.
Why I was here.
What is my purpose?
(08:29):
Ironically, it is not that Ifeel at home in here or I don't
belong.
But I do feel as though mypurpose and meaning will somehow
find an answer in here.
I want to thrive more thanmerely survive.
And with a different state ofmind and emotion.
I truly believe love is the key.
No matter how painful and scaryall this is, I hold on to that.
(08:57):
Behind closed doors, men grapplewith their lack of ability to
control or influence anything inthe outside world.
Families suffer as a result ofour absenteeism.
And in here, men's mental healthdeteriorates significantly
without any structure andsupport.
I read something about menwithout women in their lives.
(09:19):
They sink to levels of basenesshard to understand until it
happens.
It's a vicious circle.
The pressure loved ones feeloutside ripples in here and
magnifies all of your problems.
It's a mind fuck at best.
It's alarming, the high numbersin here for domestic abuse and
violence.
(09:40):
If your face fits, or you arehard enough, then it appears to
be acceptable, and if you arenot, then you are attacked and
ostracized.
Each day, I'm forced tocarefully navigate my way
through or around TheDespicables, hopeful that I
might make it back to my cell inthe evening in one piece.
(10:04):
The last thing you need issharing with someone who is just
as bad as those you try toavoid.
So padmates are a big deal.
Ranging from the chain smokingto the pretty stable, but not
easy to live with.
You learn very quickly.
It is all about compromise or itbecomes a doom pit.
Or worse, explosive.
(10:26):
It sounds insane.
But it can be better to beshacked up with a murderer than
it is a thief or a liar.
And someone focused more ondrugs and masturbation than
going to work is going to be anightmare, and is someone who'll
make your prison sentence evenworse.
If this sounds like a criticism,it isn't.
(10:47):
It's an observation.
Where does a man turn?
Who can he trust?
Behind closed doors, a man isshackled to his demons and his
pad mate.
There is no privacy, no quietspace.
Other inmates are alwaysthreatening each other through
the doors, shouting andintimidating, jabbering through
(11:08):
the door like feral, frenziedchildren, often late into the
night.
Prison life for me is aboutsoaking up the unpleasantries
and trying to rise above thedickhead brigade, and don't try
to be a somebody.
That's what I believe serves mewell in this environment.
But it isn't easy.
(11:29):
My new padmate is trying tosettle into prison life, as I'm
trying to settle into my newpadmate.
As time goes by, it's as ifthings that normally take years
to develop, now only take days.
If you don't get on quickly,then life is getting tougher
times ten.
I'm lucky.
(11:50):
I go about prison life and celllife differently to the rest.
I'm hoping the Law of Attractionis working in my favour.
Kindness works, understandingworks, and authenticity works.
You learn in reception that newguys can appear as quickly as
established ones leave.
(12:10):
It's impossible to miss Reeve.
He's a big guy.
Six foot four.
Looks like a cross between agladiator and a rugby player.
Sort of on the spectrum.
Quiet but intense.
First impressions were, helooked like a bull caught in the
headlights in the middle ofTimes Square.
Full of masculinity but softlyspoken and out of his comfort
(12:32):
zone.
He strolled in with Mr.
C, who introduced him as the newreception worker.
He plucked him from A Wing andbypassed the list of
recommendations from the lads.
He's replacing the bald onewho's on the bus to Cat D on
Monday, and that's not a day toosoon.
He struggled and hisfrustrations manifested in
(12:54):
unpleasant ways.
Let's say no more.
The lads gave the giant theusual quick fire questions in
the kitchen.
I didn't hang around.
But I did hear he had a coupleof young kids.
I think he must be about thirty,and received twenty one months
for cultivating, a.
k.
(13:14):
a.
a grower.
He parachuted into my life atjust the right time, even though
at first neither of us knew it.
His first night on B Wing wasnot what he was expecting, but
Big Reeve ended up sharing acell with the Horrible One, and
we all expected that that was tobe the permanent arrangement.
(13:34):
But one night would turn out tobe enough for the giant.
With Baldy on the eve ofleaving, I too have no padmate,
and for a second time, I'mrejecting padding up with the
Prize Prick.
Twice he's approached me to behis padmate, and twice I've
knocked him back.
It's akin to being jilted at thealtar in front of everyone.
(13:57):
His head's fallen off and he'strying his best not to show it.
He knows too well we're bothvulnerable to any space cadet
landing here and being forced onus as a padmate.
All the other reception lads arepaired up and settled.
It was a no-brainer for me, so Ipolitely declined.
I'll take my chances with thestranger because nothing could
(14:19):
be worse than him.
He acts all big time and tough,but he's poison, and every
padmate he's had so far hasregretted their decision to move
in with him.
Thankfully, Reeve came out ofthe cell this morning and
experienced enough through thenight to approach me.
He said he told the lads that hefarts all night like an elephant
and snores worse than thefarting the rest of the time.
(14:42):
Gross, but I couldn't stoplaughing.
The lads said it was a nobrainer to pad up with me.
That's how Big Reeve became mynew padmate.
In the space of 24 hours, I andReeve both rejected The Prick.
You can only imagine how much ithurts.
Although no one has said it,everyone knows.
(15:05):
HMP is full of Alpha Males andwannabes.
The Prize Prick is the lattertrying to be the first.
A sly and devious type, hardenedby too much dissatisfaction.
He reminds me of ugliness turnedinside out.
Ironically, he's the same age asme.
Why he's obsessed in underminingme is a mystery.
(15:28):
A couple of the lads havealready commented he's a two
faced fucker, forever remindingus of the prison codes and
pecking order.
It's obvious to me, he is theone to trust the least.
He's fueling the lads to turnagainst me, and it's prod, prod,
prod.
Trying to rub me up the wrongway to put me on the spot in
front of the lads to gain areaction.
(15:49):
He looks like he's got a glasseye, or maybe a real eye that's
dead.
It doesn't appear to move.
I imagine he probably sufferedfor that when he was growing up.
Even if you are tough, the otherkids are still laughing behind
your back.
For me, and unlike the creature,I have no desire for the title
(16:11):
of Number One.
Instead, I'm happy to be asunassuming as possible and
focused on doing my best to comethrough the other side as
unscathed as possible.
The K Kid, the Court Jester inthe workplace, is making
progress.
And he too is navigating thePrize Prick, with a little
support from myself, might Isay.
(16:32):
I don't feel guilty aboutdropping him as a pad mate, but
I am not part of the posse toderail him.
The Prick hates him.
Not as much as he hates me, butenough to keep him distracted.
No one envisaged K rattling andsurviving to this point.
And he's become popular with theofficers which serves him well.
(16:55):
At times, we feel like teenagersas we dodged and sidestepped our
mutual enemy.
However, The Horrible One is amanipulator, and most certainly
a dangerous foe, who seemsdesperate to make our lives as
miserable as possible in orderto elevate himself amongst
prison peers.
(17:15):
He talks classically from thecorner of his mouth, somehow
trying to accentuate hisauthority.
Every time he speaks, it remindsme of a throwback to some old
prison movie rammed withstereotypes and cliches.
Ironically, the K kid is asurprising contender for King of
the Wing as he shuffles aroundwheeling and dealing.
(17:39):
He displays no malice, not a badbone or wicked thought, and a
character all of his own.
I think his popularity reallyannoys The Prick.
Slowly but surely, he issolidifying his position, and
day by day he grows inconfidence.
He is childlike in many ways,but not to be underestimated.
(18:03):
He's just surviving in the bestway he knows.
Like the song goes, we're justtwo lost souls swimming in a
fishbowl.
Except the water is filthysewage and toxic.
Carl, commented over lunch, allof us sat together, that G,
myself, is a very shrewd guy.
(18:25):
He smiled, and gave me theG-Dubz title, and tomorrow we're
training partners.
That's how far I've come.
Slowly but surely, the more thelads get to know me, then the
more comfortable they are withme.
I spoke to H earlier.
He told me he's facing a thirtyfive years rec.
(18:48):
I mean, what can you do or say?
It's a number that's impossibleto comprehend.
Rec comes with the most seriousof crimes, and murder,
especially one that wasdescribed as an assassination,
is about as serious as it gets.
I suppose in some ways, betweenthe police and the authorities,
(19:08):
it is a way of sending out aloud and clear message against
the gangs and drugs.
However, I always remind myself,someone for some reason was
murdered, and that person isdead forever, leaving the grief
for his family and loved ones tolive with for the rest of their
lives.
(19:29):
He was stood in his Hugo Bosstracksuit.
Something that would have been ahigh end bit of swag on the
outside, it is a strangereminder of nothing more than
shattered dreams.
A man in his late 20s, facingthe majority, if not all of his
life behind bars, is a head fuckon a different level.
(19:49):
I can't help wondering, does hethink about ending it?
Or is he hopeful for an appeal?
This evening, Bank Holiday, aguy, or should I say a fellow
inmate, has collapsed and isunconscious in his cell.
None of the staff seeminterested in helping him.
And plenty of the lads aregetting off on him, mocking or
(20:11):
baiting him.
It's horrible and weird.
I'm stuck behind the door.
It's sick entertainment in acruel place that is unhinged.
As the guy lies on the coldconcrete floor unconscious, on
Spice, the rest look on andmock.
In the end, an officer closesthe door over while I suspect
(20:32):
they wait for a doctor.
For over thirty minutes no onecame to help, and he didn't
resume consciousness.
As the keys turn in the door,the asylum kicks off.
HMP.
The wing is a jungle.
And as with all jungles, when ananimal dies, there is a frenzy.
During the three and a halfyears I was in prison, I wrote
(00:03):
over a million words by hand.
Tales from the Jails is acontemporaneous account of my
life, and attempts to thriverather than merely survive
whilst incarcerated.
Most names have been changed,but the events have not.
Episode 16.
(00:24):
Slashings, Stabbings Spice.
What goes on behind closed doorsranges from madness to badness,
(00:48):
trauma to terrifying, and funnyto intoxicating.
The list of descriptive wordscould fill this page, and I
could turn it over and do thesame again.
But what goes on behind closeddoors is a world beyond our
normal imagination.
A bit like a deranged version offalling down the rabbit hole on
a bad trip and realising it'snot what you thought or
(01:11):
expected.
Pad mates.
Almost sounds romantic when yousay it.
A bit like Friends, but a prisonversion.
The reality is the atmosphere isoften intense, and living with a
stranger in here is highlyunstable at best.
Without wishing to be graphic,where or how does one begin to
(01:33):
describe the horrors that takeplace behind the steel door?
What are the secrets that mendare not speak?
And what are the horrors thatthey speak of too freely?
Sadly, but honestly.
It's a place where men cannot betrusted, cannot be believed, and
most certainly cannot beconfided in.
To be fair, I'm sure prisonersare just as wary of me as I of
(01:56):
them.
The more you're settled within agroup or pack, the less hassle
you receive.
Although, I'm not sure that isguaranteed.
But if extreme mental healthproblems and deep rooted
behavioural issues aren't badenough amongst the general
prison population, then whatabout the career criminals with
violent tendencies dropped inwithout notice as your padmate?
(02:19):
What do you do?
If there are rapists, abusers,murderers and generally fucked
up angry people sharing aconfined space with you, what do
you say?
Maybe t hey have a drink ordrugs problem.
Maybe they have a meds issue.
What do you do?
But worse who cares?
(02:41):
What do you do if your padmatelikes to indulge in spice, which
almost guarantees mayhem anddrama will follow?
What do you do if both of youare trapped in the cell together
and are polar opposites?
Who chooses what you watch onthe TV?
What time its lights out?
The cleanliness of the cell?
And what if the other personreceives unwanted visitors on a
(03:02):
regular basis?
Madness on the wing spills intocells like water balloons
bursting open.
A man can be caught between arock and a hard place very
easily.
What if your pad mate is a livewire?
Eyes glazed with psychosis thatscares a man with just one look.
(03:24):
You can end up with a cellmatewho shouts through the door more
than he sleeps in his bed.
It's also very easy in here,when the lights go out, to let
the darkness consume you.
A man can think he is copingwell, when the reality is the
wheels may not have come off,but the wheel nuts are missing.
(03:46):
Daily, I see tensions turn intoflare ups, which turn into
violent episodes.
Heroics in here come with scarsand can place unwanted targets
on your back.
I have enough time in here tosit and wonder.
How is all this possible?
Who allows this to take placeand why?
I think of this regularly.
(04:09):
Who and why?
Imagine, I'm in a place costingpotentially£50 million a year to
run,£40, 000 per head to a largeextent, funded by the taxpayer,
and no one cares about any ofus.
There are some officers who showbrief moments of compassion, but
they're rare.
(04:29):
Some of the lads care but I fearthey're more concerned what the
other lads may think, and soremain quiet.
Standing back in situationsrather than stepping forward.
Being singled out as a do gooderisn't a great title in prison.
I think the lads have worked outI don't follow or run with the
pack.
I make my own decisions andwon't be swayed by the mob
(04:52):
mentality.
I follow my own path as best asI can under the circumstances.
Some wish to derail that.
While others watch on with quietcuriosity.
I've noticed that many of thelads who are doing the
intimidating are the ones whoseemingly also get too close to
officers.
(05:12):
How ironic.
It's mad how it works.
They can be so cruel to fellowinmates, yet suck up to an
officer like they're giving thema blowjob.
There is no rehabilitation.
It is only a word.
A soundbite for politicians.
Marketing people, and quangostapping into the pots of funding
and pretending they know whatthey're talking about, whilst
(05:34):
the reality in here is that theprison system is broken.
We are the scum and scourge ofsociety, and as such are treated
no better than vermin.
Ironically, I'm not sure thepublic is aware of just how much
it's costing, and, how poor theoutcomes of rehabilitation are,
because there's no sign ofmeaningful activities or
(05:56):
programs to learn anythingpurposeful.
A large proportion of lads areon remand, waiting for trials.
The majority are conspiracies.
Less than three months in and Ican see the authorities and
prosecution service havecombined to deliver a formula
for one sided success.
(06:17):
I fear, many like mine, areunsafe convictions.
But it seems impossible tochallenge.
The number of guys who stepforward and speak to me,
personally and discreetly, isgrowing.
Trust is a limited commodity inhere.
I can sometimes ponder for ages,how do these people conduct
(06:41):
themselves in the outside world?
It's clear to see, mostobviously have problems with
authority.
Many can't process simpleinstructions or requests.
The majority conduct themselveslike delinquent teenagers, but
they're in men's bodies.
They break and smash orintimidate anyone or anything
(07:03):
just to get their own way.
They don't ask, they take.
And try to resolve small thingsand it's blown out of all
proportion and into a dramaticfireworks display.
When a person confides in me, Itake it seriously.
Mistrust in prison can turn outto be deadly.
(07:25):
Behind closed doors, there is noescaping one's fears and
feelings within.
You are not alone, not even withyour thoughts.
Any of the day's events floodthe mind once behind the door,
and you decompress on your bunk.
Every day is like a SpaghettiWestern, where almost everybody
is a villain, even if they wearthe Sheriff's badge.
(07:47):
The lads pull me about how Idescribe things, and everybody
goes on about my confidence.
Anything that is different aboutyou, anything that is good,
well, the horrible ones, they'lltry to extract that from you by
any means.
If it's not intimidation, thenit's humiliation.
It never stops.
(08:08):
There is no beginning becausethere is no ending.
It's worse than purgatory.
However, I try my best to remaintrue to myself, but it can be
difficult.
Luckily, I spent years inconfusion, searching to discover
who I truly was.
Why I was here.
What is my purpose?
(08:29):
Ironically, it is not that Ifeel at home in here or I don't
belong.
But I do feel as though mypurpose and meaning will somehow
find an answer in here.
I want to thrive more thanmerely survive.
And with a different state ofmind and emotion.
I truly believe love is the key.
No matter how painful and scaryall this is, I hold on to that.
(08:57):
Behind closed doors, men grapplewith their lack of ability to
control or influence anything inthe outside world.
Families suffer as a result ofour absenteeism.
And in here, men's mental healthdeteriorates significantly
without any structure andsupport.
I read something about menwithout women in their lives.
(09:19):
They sink to levels of basenesshard to understand until it
happens.
It's a vicious circle.
The pressure loved ones feeloutside ripples in here and
magnifies all of your problems.
It's a mind fuck at best.
It's alarming, the high numbersin here for domestic abuse and
violence.
(09:40):
If your face fits, or you arehard enough, then it appears to
be acceptable, and if you arenot, then you are attacked and
ostracized.
Each day, I'm forced tocarefully navigate my way
through or around TheDespicables, hopeful that I
might make it back to my cell inthe evening in one piece.
(10:04):
The last thing you need issharing with someone who is just
as bad as those you try toavoid.
So padmates are a big deal.
Ranging from the chain smokingto the pretty stable, but not
easy to live with.
You learn very quickly.
It is all about compromise or itbecomes a doom pit.
Or worse, explosive.
(10:26):
It sounds insane.
But it can be better to beshacked up with a murderer than
it is a thief or a liar.
And someone focused more ondrugs and masturbation than
going to work is going to be anightmare, and is someone who'll
make your prison sentence evenworse.
If this sounds like a criticism,it isn't.
(10:47):
It's an observation.
Where does a man turn?
Who can he trust?
Behind closed doors, a man isshackled to his demons and his
pad mate.
There is no privacy, no quietspace.
Other inmates are alwaysthreatening each other through
the doors, shouting andintimidating, jabbering through
(11:08):
the door like feral, frenziedchildren, often late into the
night.
Prison life for me is aboutsoaking up the unpleasantries
and trying to rise above thedickhead brigade, and don't try
to be a somebody.
That's what I believe serves mewell in this environment.
But it isn't easy.
(11:29):
My new padmate is trying tosettle into prison life, as I'm
trying to settle into my newpadmate.
As time goes by, it's as ifthings that normally take years
to develop, now only take days.
If you don't get on quickly,then life is getting tougher
times ten.
I'm lucky.
(11:50):
I go about prison life and celllife differently to the rest.
I'm hoping the Law of Attractionis working in my favour.
Kindness works, understandingworks, and authenticity works.
You learn in reception that newguys can appear as quickly as
established ones leave.
(12:10):
It's impossible to miss Reeve.
He's a big guy.
Six foot four.
Looks like a cross between agladiator and a rugby player.
Sort of on the spectrum.
Quiet but intense.
First impressions were, helooked like a bull caught in the
headlights in the middle ofTimes Square.
Full of masculinity but softlyspoken and out of his comfort
(12:32):
zone.
He strolled in with Mr.
C, who introduced him as the newreception worker.
He plucked him from A Wing andbypassed the list of
recommendations from the lads.
He's replacing the bald onewho's on the bus to Cat D on
Monday, and that's not a day toosoon.
He struggled and hisfrustrations manifested in
(12:54):
unpleasant ways.
Let's say no more.
The lads gave the giant theusual quick fire questions in
the kitchen.
I didn't hang around.
But I did hear he had a coupleof young kids.
I think he must be about thirty,and received twenty one months
for cultivating, a.
k.
(13:14):
a.
a grower.
He parachuted into my life atjust the right time, even though
at first neither of us knew it.
His first night on B Wing wasnot what he was expecting, but
Big Reeve ended up sharing acell with the Horrible One, and
we all expected that that was tobe the permanent arrangement.
(13:34):
But one night would turn out tobe enough for the giant.
With Baldy on the eve ofleaving, I too have no padmate,
and for a second time, I'mrejecting padding up with the
Prize Prick.
Twice he's approached me to behis padmate, and twice I've
knocked him back.
It's akin to being jilted at thealtar in front of everyone.
(13:57):
His head's fallen off and he'strying his best not to show it.
He knows too well we're bothvulnerable to any space cadet
landing here and being forced onus as a padmate.
All the other reception lads arepaired up and settled.
It was a no-brainer for me, so Ipolitely declined.
I'll take my chances with thestranger because nothing could
(14:19):
be worse than him.
He acts all big time and tough,but he's poison, and every
padmate he's had so far hasregretted their decision to move
in with him.
Thankfully, Reeve came out ofthe cell this morning and
experienced enough through thenight to approach me.
He said he told the lads that hefarts all night like an elephant
and snores worse than thefarting the rest of the time.
(14:42):
Gross, but I couldn't stoplaughing.
The lads said it was a nobrainer to pad up with me.
That's how Big Reeve became mynew padmate.
In the space of 24 hours, I andReeve both rejected The Prick.
You can only imagine how much ithurts.
Although no one has said it,everyone knows.
(15:05):
HMP is full of Alpha Males andwannabes.
The Prize Prick is the lattertrying to be the first.
A sly and devious type, hardenedby too much dissatisfaction.
He reminds me of ugliness turnedinside out.
Ironically, he's the same age asme.
Why he's obsessed in underminingme is a mystery.
(15:28):
A couple of the lads havealready commented he's a two
faced fucker, forever remindingus of the prison codes and
pecking order.
It's obvious to me, he is theone to trust the least.
He's fueling the lads to turnagainst me, and it's prod, prod,
prod.
Trying to rub me up the wrongway to put me on the spot in
front of the lads to gain areaction.
(15:49):
He looks like he's got a glasseye, or maybe a real eye that's
dead.
It doesn't appear to move.
I imagine he probably sufferedfor that when he was growing up.
Even if you are tough, the otherkids are still laughing behind
your back.
For me, and unlike the creature,I have no desire for the title
(16:11):
of Number One.
Instead, I'm happy to be asunassuming as possible and
focused on doing my best to comethrough the other side as
unscathed as possible.
The K Kid, the Court Jester inthe workplace, is making
progress.
And he too is navigating thePrize Prick, with a little
support from myself, might Isay.
(16:32):
I don't feel guilty aboutdropping him as a pad mate, but
I am not part of the posse toderail him.
The Prick hates him.
Not as much as he hates me, butenough to keep him distracted.
No one envisaged K rattling andsurviving to this point.
And he's become popular with theofficers which serves him well.
(16:55):
At times, we feel like teenagersas we dodged and sidestepped our
mutual enemy.
However, The Horrible One is amanipulator, and most certainly
a dangerous foe, who seemsdesperate to make our lives as
miserable as possible in orderto elevate himself amongst
prison peers.
(17:15):
He talks classically from thecorner of his mouth, somehow
trying to accentuate hisauthority.
Every time he speaks, it remindsme of a throwback to some old
prison movie rammed withstereotypes and cliches.
Ironically, the K kid is asurprising contender for King of
the Wing as he shuffles aroundwheeling and dealing.
(17:39):
He displays no malice, not a badbone or wicked thought, and a
character all of his own.
I think his popularity reallyannoys The Prick.
Slowly but surely, he issolidifying his position, and
day by day he grows inconfidence.
He is childlike in many ways,but not to be underestimated.
(18:03):
He's just surviving in the bestway he knows.
Like the song goes, we're justtwo lost souls swimming in a
fishbowl.
Except the water is filthysewage and toxic.
Carl, commented over lunch, allof us sat together, that G,
myself, is a very shrewd guy.
(18:25):
He smiled, and gave me theG-Dubz title, and tomorrow we're
training partners.
That's how far I've come.
Slowly but surely, the more thelads get to know me, then the
more comfortable they are withme.
I spoke to H earlier.
He told me he's facing a thirtyfive years rec.
(18:48):
I mean, what can you do or say?
It's a number that's impossibleto comprehend.
Rec comes with the most seriousof crimes, and murder,
especially one that wasdescribed as an assassination,
is about as serious as it gets.
I suppose in some ways, betweenthe police and the authorities,
(19:08):
it is a way of sending out aloud and clear message against
the gangs and drugs.
However, I always remind myself,someone for some reason was
murdered, and that person isdead forever, leaving the grief
for his family and loved ones tolive with for the rest of their
lives.
(19:29):
He was stood in his Hugo Bosstracksuit.
Something that would have been ahigh end bit of swag on the
outside, it is a strangereminder of nothing more than
shattered dreams.
A man in his late 20s, facingthe majority, if not all of his
life behind bars, is a head fuckon a different level.
(19:49):
I can't help wondering, does hethink about ending it?
Or is he hopeful for an appeal?
This evening, Bank Holiday, aguy, or should I say a fellow
inmate, has collapsed and isunconscious in his cell.
None of the staff seeminterested in helping him.
And plenty of the lads aregetting off on him, mocking or
(20:11):
baiting him.
It's horrible and weird.
I'm stuck behind the door.
It's sick entertainment in acruel place that is unhinged.
As the guy lies on the coldconcrete floor unconscious, on
Spice, the rest look on andmock.
In the end, an officer closesthe door over while I suspect
(20:32):
they wait for a doctor.
For over thirty minutes no onecame to help, and he didn't
resume consciousness.
As the keys turn in the door,the asylum kicks off.
HMP.
The wing is a jungle.
And as with all jungles, when ananimal dies, there is a frenzy.
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