When you’re stuck in a six by ten cell, escape is three options.
Number one: Your own mind. That happened to Cheeky Harry and the Smiler. Personally, I’ve got far too much going on up here to get locked in inside it. Far too many nightmares that I don’t want to be locked in with. Jesse, Carmichael, Raleigh. I can still feel their blood on my face, see their dead eyes, watch as…
No. My mind is not a place I want to inhabit for any length of time. There is far too much going on.
Number two: The library. It’s the only option we’ve got. It even has a window and you can see the sky. It’s so beautiful. It’s so lovely.
But it’s false. That fake piece of sky. It doesn’t matter that it’s the real sky, with the real sun and real clouds. It’s fake. So fake. A false life hidden behind double glazing. A tantalising piece of reality hidden behind the fictional building blocks of these walls. It’s as if I live in a world made of Lego, and I see the child building my world through that tiny window.
I refuse to have a controlled word as my escape.
The muscleheads use the gym to escape. I’ve always been slightly built and hated the gym. So I can’t escape into the workouts, struggling to focus on the weights and the reps and the hounding masses of other prisoners. I felt intimidated and out of place.
So that’s not for me either.
There is only one point of solace. Only one place to escape. Not the visitors room, I’ve got no friends or family left. Not the yard, far too open.
No, there is only one option for me. True escape. Getting out of my six by ten, through the corridors past the armed guards, through the laser grid, over the pressure sensors and out past the guard towers with a full compliment of guards, razor wire and the dogs.
I hate Alsations. But this is the only way. My mind is treacherous. The library is false. The gym is full of morons.
I have to escape. Properly. Now is the time. I have all the time in the world.
The Idiot in Tin Foil