March 30, 2025 • 22 mins
My closest friend thus far is in for manslaughter. He killed his wife in what he describes as two minutes of madness when he just flipped.
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):
Episode 27 Two Minutes OfMadness.
It's Tuesday the 9th of July,2016.
(00:23):
Who is this band of brothers?
This brotherhood of men thatshare my hours and days who
inhabit my life, but are neverinvited to witness my tears.
Whether we are slung or flung bya series of unfortunate,
desperate events, we spend ourtime together regardless of
(00:43):
likes or dislikes.
We must form friendships orbecome foes.
We eat together, we sleep aboveand below each other, and we do
time together.
Each second the same in manyways, but so different in
others.
With our varying and contrastingpersonalities, faults and flaws
(01:05):
and egos, which often fuel thevicious tantrums or tiaras that
constantly unravel, we share itall in this lawless, often
soulless place.
And yet, this place forms thestrangest of friendships.
My closest so far being J, whowas convicted of manslaughter.
(01:30):
Day by day, a wild and hairybunch clamour into my room to
play cards and distract the slowoppressive time away.
I could never have guessed thata convicted killer would sit to
my right and make me laugh, anda drug dealer to my left who has
the sharpest wit of all.
Opposite was The Glumster whosefavourite line is, I'm not
(01:53):
happy.
A giant of a man living in aconstant state of turmoil
between Cat D dreams infusedwith nightmares of his partner
spending his money like she'dwon the lottery.
One moment they were madly inlove, and the next arguing on a
prison telephone.
This is just a peek through thelens that is HMP Liverpool.
(02:17):
A constant diet of beige carbsand chips with everything.
Each morning I awake to thesurreal life that is prison and
night after night, I ascend thestairs to my cell, surrounded by
my tired motley crew ofco-workers.
There is no good night.
(02:39):
Instead it's wise cracks andwindups.
Every 24 hours is always 1,440minutes, and although each day
passes like Groundhog Day, notwo minutes are ever the same as
tension and drama are everpresent.
We are thrust together in thissqualid hell, regardless of
(03:01):
crimes, personality clashes, orunstable moods.
The bullies look in everydirection to bully and terrorize
someone for some personal gainand their victims or prey hide
in places that don't exist.
The irony for me so far is thatthe M lads seem the calmest and
(03:24):
most approachable, the classictwo minutes of madness in what
would've otherwise been aworthy, worthwhile life.
The rest of the place is packedwith rats, rogues and cowboys
and wretched creatures.
I feel alone in a pit of viciouswild animals fighting to prove
themselves in an asylum ofmadness.
(03:48):
One hundred per cent it is theblind leading the blind.
But amongst the mayhem and toxictestosterone there are stories
of men who once mattered, buthere most, if not all, between
these walls are scaredindividuals dripping with anger
(04:09):
and anxieties and acting tough.
I hear them in the dark hours ofthe night screaming in their
sleep and listen to theirbullshit the following day, when
they profess to sleep like ababy.
The seagulls sound as thoughthey're laughing at us all,
(04:29):
squalling in fits of giggles atour pain and terror.
It feels like a Hitchcock movieat times.
The mocking begins at 4.30 inthe morning as they scavenge
around the prison yard below ourwindows.
They have the last laugh too,when they spread their wings
after a feast on our misfortuneand saw into the skies of
(04:51):
freedom.
No one and nothing in here issacred and nothing separates the
rich from the poor better thanthe quality of their trainers.
It is comical to observe a gangof inmates talking about new
trainers as if it was LondonFashion Week.
(05:13):
However, there is often apervasive caustic tone lurking
to bounce.
Some inmates are permanentlydespicable or wretched creatures
as I prefer to label them.
They thrive on the misery andmisfortune of others, or worse
being the inflicters of thatmisery and pain.
(05:34):
I'm surrounded by the Alpha Packmentality.
Men constantly trying to provethemselves, be tougher and
harder than they really are, butin fear of becoming a target
themselves.
No one dares to say no or,you're wrong.
There is no accountability, noresponsibility, and basically
(05:56):
it's survival by whatever meansat your disposal.
If you end up fighting or beingjumped, no one is coming to your
aid.
Not even those who minutesearlier you thought of as
friends.
It's like falling down therabbit hole on acid and
returning to reality in anightmare called purgatory.
(06:18):
I'm a good man in a very badplace with the odds stacked
against me.
Walton has chewed men up andspat them out crying for over
150 years.
Not many leave here withoutscars, whether they're visible
or the ones inside thatdisfigure and traumatize a
person for the rest of theirlives.
(06:41):
I chronicle as much as I canfrom these experiences with its
comedic splashes of colour, andI observe everything from the
small hints of body language tothe characters and personalities
that pass through this sewer twomiles from the banks of the
River Mersey.
Yesterday, JK received 16 years.
(07:05):
He left in the morning hoping,or should I say, praying for a
10.
A tall, strong guy departed HMPat 7:30 am, but a shrunken
broken boy returned by midday.
He sat with the doctor, as manydo to check he was okay.
And by that I mean mentally andemotionally.
(07:26):
The subject of suicide must bediscussed.
A sleeping tablet is prescribedand he'll be watched through the
night.
He's not alone in the horrorthat consumes a person after
receiving a 16 year life bomb.
In here, it's hard for the mindto process it all.
Too much of a shock to thesystem, like being cattle,
(07:48):
prodded and tasered at the sametime.
It's less the case of the daythat you are living in that
hurts or drains you the most,but the contemplation of the
years ahead you will lose, andthe impact and fallout on your
loved ones.
Hope carries a person a verylong way.
(08:10):
But when hope is lost and thedark, dramatic reality of life
behind bars for a very long timekicks in, imagine the sense of
hopelessness, lost dreams, and afamily left in turmoil.
What do you say to your lovedones, your partner, your
children, maybe your parents?
(08:33):
Years beyond your sentenceexpectations equals years lost
in the life ahead of you.
How does the mind process such acar crash of emotion?
In the few brief moments I couldshare with JK, before he'd
returned to the wing, I put myarm around him and offered him
new hope and reassurances.
(08:55):
He was on a Section 18.
I believe he attempted to run apolice officer over along with a
bunch of drug offences thrownin.
The lads had predicted he was infor a heavy slamming.
I'm noticing more and more guysleaning on me in those desperate
hours.
On a daily basis I quietly goabout my work, try to keep my
(09:19):
head down and remain the voiceof reason, even though it's
unpopular.
But that said, in moments ofcrisis, guys do open up to me.
I remain true to myself doingthe right thing for the right
reasons.
What is the use of me searchingfor answers over the years, if
(09:43):
not to use everything I'velearned and discovered and put
it to good use in here?
Amongst the turmoil, I findpeace and calm and try to be
with genuine thoughts andpositive feelings.
Of course, that are those whomock, but nowadays, I'm lucky
(10:03):
that it only makes them looklike fools.
I accept I'm not everyone'sbezzy and the lads comment
regularly that I'm verydifferent.
But as time passes the guys whohave grown to trust and respect
me for who I am, ironically,after all the dramas, many of
them, when they are low and sadand alone or unsettled, they
(10:26):
often drift in and open up.
I think they feel like it's asafe place and goes no further.
I'm lucky, throughout the darkmoments and unsettled feelings,
there is T.
She's an inspiration to me and atower of strength, a guiding
(10:47):
light in the dark, and yet stillfull of life and laughter,
whether on a prison call or in aWalton visit room.
Without her, I don't know howall of this experience would
turn out.
She believes in meunconditionally, and this powers
me on when the batteries feellow.
(11:08):
In this awful and dangerousexistence, I'm lucky that I have
a special kind of love.
It doesn't have to be proved andit never falters.
It just is.
Not many people have what T andI share, and I've become very
aware of the true power of thisforce called love.
(11:30):
It's interesting, though, howthe prison system and prisoners
hate love as much as they hatehappiness.
When a man has meaning andpurpose in his life and love,
then he's the closest he'll everfeel to completeness.
I'm lucky to be in arelationship with a woman who
(11:51):
still wants to spend the rest ofher life with me and share in
the magic of our crazy lovebubble.
I've told the lads that T and Iare still in the honeymoon
period after nine and a halfyears.
Oh, how I dream of the days whenshe will be back in my arms.
(12:12):
Hour by hour, minute by minute,she travels with me in every
thought, in every heartbeat.
Thursday.
It's lighter until later, anddawn is bright early.
That may sound a littleromantic, but the light was
(12:34):
flooding the cell and turning arestless night into awake at
sunrise and reading withouthaving to switch the light on.
Luckily, we had a spare coupleof new sheets, courtesy of the
day job.
They were a depressing green,but perfect as blackout
curtains.
The hardest part is fixing them.
(12:56):
Prison never ceases to amaze mehow resourceful and ingenious it
forces us to become.
The window isn't big and it's ina concrete recess, and we
couldn't jam a pole across andmake a curtain rail, however
matchsticks, glued together andglued to the wall gave us a
(13:18):
strong enough hold.
And after a couple of days offaffing around, it was strong
enough to hold the pole andmakeshift blackout curtains.
It's bad enough the lightthrough the night, when we're
being headcounted, but the earlymorning sun was becoming a worse
disruption to our sleep.
(13:40):
My closest friend thus far is infor manslaughter.
He killed his wife in what hedescribes as two minutes of
madness when he just flipped.
In his words, she ridiculed himand had become nastier over the
years with it.
He loved her, but she did notlove him.
(14:03):
One day she went too far and sodid he as a result.
I think he stabbed her 48 timesand then tried to kill himself.
They had two children.
For as much as it soundshorrific, really, it is sad.
(14:26):
A family once in love and fullof laughter now was torn apart.
There are days when J doesn'tappear from his cell, such as
the grip of regrets and sadness,which I assume is now
depression.
He confides to me that it hauntshim as much as it tears him
(14:47):
apart and a couple of years intohis prison sentence, and he's
still crying daily.
If you want to know what a headfuck feels like, then spending
time behind the door living withregrets is as close as it gets.
All bar the murder, he's acompletely normal guy who loves
(15:08):
the football, a game of cardsand is not a criminal.
In fact, he's a straight member.
We're close.
Interestingly, I now work withanother M lad.
He's only young 26, strangledhis best friend to death while
(15:28):
they were fishing.
He strangled him with his barehands in the water high on
Spice.
Philly, his pad mate, said hewas scared to run the tap when
he was cleaning his teeth, justin case it gave him ideas.
We all laughed at that, eventhough it seems inappropriate.
But with Philly, nothing issacred.
(15:53):
On the topic of Spice, I'm notsure the public and our loved
ones are aware of what goes onbehind these walls with the mind
and mood altering substance,which is wreaking havoc in
prisons up and down the country.
It's an epidemic that has turnedprisons into asylums.
Even now as I write up on topbunk, the sounds of monkeys
(16:16):
banging on windows and steeldoors echoes through the wing.
This is HMP.
If I didn't know I was here,then I could close my eyes and
it sounds like a frenzied zoo.
I think about the law of causeand effect.
For every action there is anequal reaction sort of thing,
(16:38):
and two sides of the same coin.
I think we all have a side thatthe rest of the world never
sees.
There are often two sides toevery story, but in here, no one
wants to listen.
It's a place of punishment, notlistening or caring.
(16:58):
I thought I'd experienced enoughof life to prepare me for this,
but sadly, nothing prepares anyof us.
I've been to places most peopledon't make it back from, many
times.
I've experienced being poor,being isolated and surviving,
the type of stuff that usuallycrushes a person mentally as
(17:20):
much as emotionally, but herethe violence, duplicity and lack
of fairness is draining as muchas it is suffocating.
Behind this steel door thatseparates us from the violence I
contemplate quietly this fuckupof a situation.
(17:42):
Where does all of the anger comefrom?
What is the source that fuels somuch evil?
Whether you work here or are aguest of HMP, we are all
prisoners of one kind oranother.
Staff must be affected by theenvironment as much as we are.
(18:04):
Day after day, I observe menstruggling, even the tough
leaders of gangs struggle withthe dark clouds of depression.
Don't get me wrong, most arestill horrible, but there aren't
many in this building, staff orinmates, who do not struggle
with the oppressive atmospherethat chokes our lungs
(18:24):
constantly.
There is no respite from it.
Lads can be horrible to eachother and staff, but equally,
staff can be horrible to thelads and their fellow workers.
People are people everywhere yougo.
Except here.
It's lawless.
And so crime and criminals arenot contained to the point they
(18:46):
cannot commit further crimes.
No.
In here prison is a crimeaccelerator and add Spice into
the mayhem and the legal highravages men's lives to the point
of being out of control and intoa crazed psychotic zombie that
is sport and entertainment tomany of the lads in here.
(19:10):
I'm lucky.
I am loved and still feel love.
I can't imagine life in herewithout love in my life.
I can only assume it is one ofthe fundamentals that keeps me
going, keeps me sane, and keepsme from the baseness that
consumes the prison population.
(19:33):
I've worked in a multimillionpound business, enjoyed success
with the movers and shakers.
I've mingled and partied withthe beautiful, the rich and the
wild, and I've done the samewith the notorious criminal
fraternity.
I'm from Liverpool.
Try not having friends orassociates who aren't criminal
(19:55):
or have been to prison.
The line that sums it upperfectly is, I've swum with the
sharks.
By the time I reached 40, Ibegan to make choices and
commitments that moved away fromthat side of life.
This evening, here in HMP, menare petrified, scared out of
(20:19):
their minds, lost, alone, andfull of fear.
Their only chance of relief isfrom a Listener with an inmate
who may have the best ofintentions but is more
interested in watching thefootball or Britain's Got
Talent.
K Wing, they have their ownListeners.
(20:41):
Two were on the course.
The lads weren't happy, but ifwe didn't soak it up, believe it
or not, we were out and theywould remain.
If you were sat in my positionright now, you may ask yourself,
does a VP, a vulnerableprisoner, deserve a Listener or
(21:02):
compassion?
They're segregated from the mainprison population for a reason.
The irony is that the VPsreceive more perks and benefits
than the rest of us, and you canimagine how that is received
amongst the rest of the lads.
I try not to judge, but even theSamaritans say, some people and
(21:26):
some topics are potentially toodifficult even for them.
I've been running the footballsweep for the last few weeks
picking the scores from thematches in the Premier League.
We all put in a pound item offour canteen.
Preferably something edible.
A tin of tuna is a right result,although number one presently is
(21:49):
a bar of chocolate.
Second week, I won.
You can imagine the shouts.
Fix.
You're up to your old fraudtricks already.
Well, you can imagine who madethat latter remark.
That aside, the pot and prizewas eight bars of chocolate, a
packet of biscuits and twoshampoos.
(22:11):
The latter being a terribleshout, but the lads cried it in.
I gave Reeve two bars ofchocolate and swapped the other
six for a tin of coffee.
The curtains are working atreat.
Mr.
S, well, his first words when heopened us up this morning was,
(22:32):
looks like you've been watchingtoo many 60 Minute Makeovers
lads.
It's like a show apartment withcurtains, not a cell.
Thankfully they were still upwhen we returned from work.
Episode 27 Two Minutes OfMadness.
It's Tuesday the 9th of July,2016.
(00:23):
Who is this band of brothers?
This brotherhood of men thatshare my hours and days who
inhabit my life, but are neverinvited to witness my tears.
Whether we are slung or flung bya series of unfortunate,
desperate events, we spend ourtime together regardless of
(00:43):
likes or dislikes.
We must form friendships orbecome foes.
We eat together, we sleep aboveand below each other, and we do
time together.
Each second the same in manyways, but so different in
others.
With our varying and contrastingpersonalities, faults and flaws
(01:05):
and egos, which often fuel thevicious tantrums or tiaras that
constantly unravel, we share itall in this lawless, often
soulless place.
And yet, this place forms thestrangest of friendships.
My closest so far being J, whowas convicted of manslaughter.
(01:30):
Day by day, a wild and hairybunch clamour into my room to
play cards and distract the slowoppressive time away.
I could never have guessed thata convicted killer would sit to
my right and make me laugh, anda drug dealer to my left who has
the sharpest wit of all.
Opposite was The Glumster whosefavourite line is, I'm not
(01:53):
happy.
A giant of a man living in aconstant state of turmoil
between Cat D dreams infusedwith nightmares of his partner
spending his money like she'dwon the lottery.
One moment they were madly inlove, and the next arguing on a
prison telephone.
This is just a peek through thelens that is HMP Liverpool.
(02:17):
A constant diet of beige carbsand chips with everything.
Each morning I awake to thesurreal life that is prison and
night after night, I ascend thestairs to my cell, surrounded by
my tired motley crew ofco-workers.
There is no good night.
(02:39):
Instead it's wise cracks andwindups.
Every 24 hours is always 1,440minutes, and although each day
passes like Groundhog Day, notwo minutes are ever the same as
tension and drama are everpresent.
We are thrust together in thissqualid hell, regardless of
(03:01):
crimes, personality clashes, orunstable moods.
The bullies look in everydirection to bully and terrorize
someone for some personal gainand their victims or prey hide
in places that don't exist.
The irony for me so far is thatthe M lads seem the calmest and
(03:24):
most approachable, the classictwo minutes of madness in what
would've otherwise been aworthy, worthwhile life.
The rest of the place is packedwith rats, rogues and cowboys
and wretched creatures.
I feel alone in a pit of viciouswild animals fighting to prove
themselves in an asylum ofmadness.
(03:48):
One hundred per cent it is theblind leading the blind.
But amongst the mayhem and toxictestosterone there are stories
of men who once mattered, buthere most, if not all, between
these walls are scaredindividuals dripping with anger
(04:09):
and anxieties and acting tough.
I hear them in the dark hours ofthe night screaming in their
sleep and listen to theirbullshit the following day, when
they profess to sleep like ababy.
The seagulls sound as thoughthey're laughing at us all,
(04:29):
squalling in fits of giggles atour pain and terror.
It feels like a Hitchcock movieat times.
The mocking begins at 4.30 inthe morning as they scavenge
around the prison yard below ourwindows.
They have the last laugh too,when they spread their wings
after a feast on our misfortuneand saw into the skies of
(04:51):
freedom.
No one and nothing in here issacred and nothing separates the
rich from the poor better thanthe quality of their trainers.
It is comical to observe a gangof inmates talking about new
trainers as if it was LondonFashion Week.
(05:13):
However, there is often apervasive caustic tone lurking
to bounce.
Some inmates are permanentlydespicable or wretched creatures
as I prefer to label them.
They thrive on the misery andmisfortune of others, or worse
being the inflicters of thatmisery and pain.
(05:34):
I'm surrounded by the Alpha Packmentality.
Men constantly trying to provethemselves, be tougher and
harder than they really are, butin fear of becoming a target
themselves.
No one dares to say no or,you're wrong.
There is no accountability, noresponsibility, and basically
(05:56):
it's survival by whatever meansat your disposal.
If you end up fighting or beingjumped, no one is coming to your
aid.
Not even those who minutesearlier you thought of as
friends.
It's like falling down therabbit hole on acid and
returning to reality in anightmare called purgatory.
(06:18):
I'm a good man in a very badplace with the odds stacked
against me.
Walton has chewed men up andspat them out crying for over
150 years.
Not many leave here withoutscars, whether they're visible
or the ones inside thatdisfigure and traumatize a
person for the rest of theirlives.
(06:41):
I chronicle as much as I canfrom these experiences with its
comedic splashes of colour, andI observe everything from the
small hints of body language tothe characters and personalities
that pass through this sewer twomiles from the banks of the
River Mersey.
Yesterday, JK received 16 years.
(07:05):
He left in the morning hoping,or should I say, praying for a
10.
A tall, strong guy departed HMPat 7:30 am, but a shrunken
broken boy returned by midday.
He sat with the doctor, as manydo to check he was okay.
And by that I mean mentally andemotionally.
(07:26):
The subject of suicide must bediscussed.
A sleeping tablet is prescribedand he'll be watched through the
night.
He's not alone in the horrorthat consumes a person after
receiving a 16 year life bomb.
In here, it's hard for the mindto process it all.
Too much of a shock to thesystem, like being cattle,
(07:48):
prodded and tasered at the sametime.
It's less the case of the daythat you are living in that
hurts or drains you the most,but the contemplation of the
years ahead you will lose, andthe impact and fallout on your
loved ones.
Hope carries a person a verylong way.
(08:10):
But when hope is lost and thedark, dramatic reality of life
behind bars for a very long timekicks in, imagine the sense of
hopelessness, lost dreams, and afamily left in turmoil.
What do you say to your lovedones, your partner, your
children, maybe your parents?
(08:33):
Years beyond your sentenceexpectations equals years lost
in the life ahead of you.
How does the mind process such acar crash of emotion?
In the few brief moments I couldshare with JK, before he'd
returned to the wing, I put myarm around him and offered him
new hope and reassurances.
(08:55):
He was on a Section 18.
I believe he attempted to run apolice officer over along with a
bunch of drug offences thrownin.
The lads had predicted he was infor a heavy slamming.
I'm noticing more and more guysleaning on me in those desperate
hours.
On a daily basis I quietly goabout my work, try to keep my
(09:19):
head down and remain the voiceof reason, even though it's
unpopular.
But that said, in moments ofcrisis, guys do open up to me.
I remain true to myself doingthe right thing for the right
reasons.
What is the use of me searchingfor answers over the years, if
(09:43):
not to use everything I'velearned and discovered and put
it to good use in here?
Amongst the turmoil, I findpeace and calm and try to be
with genuine thoughts andpositive feelings.
Of course, that are those whomock, but nowadays, I'm lucky
(10:03):
that it only makes them looklike fools.
I accept I'm not everyone'sbezzy and the lads comment
regularly that I'm verydifferent.
But as time passes the guys whohave grown to trust and respect
me for who I am, ironically,after all the dramas, many of
them, when they are low and sadand alone or unsettled, they
(10:26):
often drift in and open up.
I think they feel like it's asafe place and goes no further.
I'm lucky, throughout the darkmoments and unsettled feelings,
there is T.
She's an inspiration to me and atower of strength, a guiding
(10:47):
light in the dark, and yet stillfull of life and laughter,
whether on a prison call or in aWalton visit room.
Without her, I don't know howall of this experience would
turn out.
She believes in meunconditionally, and this powers
me on when the batteries feellow.
(11:08):
In this awful and dangerousexistence, I'm lucky that I have
a special kind of love.
It doesn't have to be proved andit never falters.
It just is.
Not many people have what T andI share, and I've become very
aware of the true power of thisforce called love.
(11:30):
It's interesting, though, howthe prison system and prisoners
hate love as much as they hatehappiness.
When a man has meaning andpurpose in his life and love,
then he's the closest he'll everfeel to completeness.
I'm lucky to be in arelationship with a woman who
(11:51):
still wants to spend the rest ofher life with me and share in
the magic of our crazy lovebubble.
I've told the lads that T and Iare still in the honeymoon
period after nine and a halfyears.
Oh, how I dream of the days whenshe will be back in my arms.
(12:12):
Hour by hour, minute by minute,she travels with me in every
thought, in every heartbeat.
Thursday.
It's lighter until later, anddawn is bright early.
That may sound a littleromantic, but the light was
(12:34):
flooding the cell and turning arestless night into awake at
sunrise and reading withouthaving to switch the light on.
Luckily, we had a spare coupleof new sheets, courtesy of the
day job.
They were a depressing green,but perfect as blackout
curtains.
The hardest part is fixing them.
(12:56):
Prison never ceases to amaze mehow resourceful and ingenious it
forces us to become.
The window isn't big and it's ina concrete recess, and we
couldn't jam a pole across andmake a curtain rail, however
matchsticks, glued together andglued to the wall gave us a
(13:18):
strong enough hold.
And after a couple of days offaffing around, it was strong
enough to hold the pole andmakeshift blackout curtains.
It's bad enough the lightthrough the night, when we're
being headcounted, but the earlymorning sun was becoming a worse
disruption to our sleep.
(13:40):
My closest friend thus far is infor manslaughter.
He killed his wife in what hedescribes as two minutes of
madness when he just flipped.
In his words, she ridiculed himand had become nastier over the
years with it.
He loved her, but she did notlove him.
(14:03):
One day she went too far and sodid he as a result.
I think he stabbed her 48 timesand then tried to kill himself.
They had two children.
For as much as it soundshorrific, really, it is sad.
(14:26):
A family once in love and fullof laughter now was torn apart.
There are days when J doesn'tappear from his cell, such as
the grip of regrets and sadness,which I assume is now
depression.
He confides to me that it hauntshim as much as it tears him
(14:47):
apart and a couple of years intohis prison sentence, and he's
still crying daily.
If you want to know what a headfuck feels like, then spending
time behind the door living withregrets is as close as it gets.
All bar the murder, he's acompletely normal guy who loves
(15:08):
the football, a game of cardsand is not a criminal.
In fact, he's a straight member.
We're close.
Interestingly, I now work withanother M lad.
He's only young 26, strangledhis best friend to death while
(15:28):
they were fishing.
He strangled him with his barehands in the water high on
Spice.
Philly, his pad mate, said hewas scared to run the tap when
he was cleaning his teeth, justin case it gave him ideas.
We all laughed at that, eventhough it seems inappropriate.
But with Philly, nothing issacred.
(15:53):
On the topic of Spice, I'm notsure the public and our loved
ones are aware of what goes onbehind these walls with the mind
and mood altering substance,which is wreaking havoc in
prisons up and down the country.
It's an epidemic that has turnedprisons into asylums.
Even now as I write up on topbunk, the sounds of monkeys
(16:16):
banging on windows and steeldoors echoes through the wing.
This is HMP.
If I didn't know I was here,then I could close my eyes and
it sounds like a frenzied zoo.
I think about the law of causeand effect.
For every action there is anequal reaction sort of thing,
(16:38):
and two sides of the same coin.
I think we all have a side thatthe rest of the world never
sees.
There are often two sides toevery story, but in here, no one
wants to listen.
It's a place of punishment, notlistening or caring.
(16:58):
I thought I'd experienced enoughof life to prepare me for this,
but sadly, nothing prepares anyof us.
I've been to places most peopledon't make it back from, many
times.
I've experienced being poor,being isolated and surviving,
the type of stuff that usuallycrushes a person mentally as
(17:20):
much as emotionally, but herethe violence, duplicity and lack
of fairness is draining as muchas it is suffocating.
Behind this steel door thatseparates us from the violence I
contemplate quietly this fuckupof a situation.
(17:42):
Where does all of the anger comefrom?
What is the source that fuels somuch evil?
Whether you work here or are aguest of HMP, we are all
prisoners of one kind oranother.
Staff must be affected by theenvironment as much as we are.
(18:04):
Day after day, I observe menstruggling, even the tough
leaders of gangs struggle withthe dark clouds of depression.
Don't get me wrong, most arestill horrible, but there aren't
many in this building, staff orinmates, who do not struggle
with the oppressive atmospherethat chokes our lungs
(18:24):
constantly.
There is no respite from it.
Lads can be horrible to eachother and staff, but equally,
staff can be horrible to thelads and their fellow workers.
People are people everywhere yougo.
Except here.
It's lawless.
And so crime and criminals arenot contained to the point they
(18:46):
cannot commit further crimes.
No.
In here prison is a crimeaccelerator and add Spice into
the mayhem and the legal highravages men's lives to the point
of being out of control and intoa crazed psychotic zombie that
is sport and entertainment tomany of the lads in here.
(19:10):
I'm lucky.
I am loved and still feel love.
I can't imagine life in herewithout love in my life.
I can only assume it is one ofthe fundamentals that keeps me
going, keeps me sane, and keepsme from the baseness that
consumes the prison population.
(19:33):
I've worked in a multimillionpound business, enjoyed success
with the movers and shakers.
I've mingled and partied withthe beautiful, the rich and the
wild, and I've done the samewith the notorious criminal
fraternity.
I'm from Liverpool.
Try not having friends orassociates who aren't criminal
(19:55):
or have been to prison.
The line that sums it upperfectly is, I've swum with the
sharks.
By the time I reached 40, Ibegan to make choices and
commitments that moved away fromthat side of life.
This evening, here in HMP, menare petrified, scared out of
(20:19):
their minds, lost, alone, andfull of fear.
Their only chance of relief isfrom a Listener with an inmate
who may have the best ofintentions but is more
interested in watching thefootball or Britain's Got
Talent.
K Wing, they have their ownListeners.
(20:41):
Two were on the course.
The lads weren't happy, but ifwe didn't soak it up, believe it
or not, we were out and theywould remain.
If you were sat in my positionright now, you may ask yourself,
does a VP, a vulnerableprisoner, deserve a Listener or
(21:02):
compassion?
They're segregated from the mainprison population for a reason.
The irony is that the VPsreceive more perks and benefits
than the rest of us, and you canimagine how that is received
amongst the rest of the lads.
I try not to judge, but even theSamaritans say, some people and
(21:26):
some topics are potentially toodifficult even for them.
I've been running the footballsweep for the last few weeks
picking the scores from thematches in the Premier League.
We all put in a pound item offour canteen.
Preferably something edible.
A tin of tuna is a right result,although number one presently is
(21:49):
a bar of chocolate.
Second week, I won.
You can imagine the shouts.
Fix.
You're up to your old fraudtricks already.
Well, you can imagine who madethat latter remark.
That aside, the pot and prizewas eight bars of chocolate, a
packet of biscuits and twoshampoos.
(22:11):
The latter being a terribleshout, but the lads cried it in.
I gave Reeve two bars ofchocolate and swapped the other
six for a tin of coffee.
The curtains are working atreat.
Mr.
S, well, his first words when heopened us up this morning was,
(22:32):
looks like you've been watchingtoo many 60 Minute Makeovers
lads.
It's like a show apartment withcurtains, not a cell.
Thankfully they were still upwhen we returned from work.
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