By Shket36
With English-language editing by Joshua Ryan
To say that I was worried would be an understatement, but again Nikolai found words to calm me down. Then, after I shaved my face and head, he told me to dress up in my prison clothes. For the first time, I had to put on a convict uniform with a badge — a badge with my photograph and convict number, but not my first name or my last. From then on I would be a number. When I had buttoned myself into my uniform and put my badge in place, Nikolai turned me to face the wall and ordered me to present my hands so he could put the guard cuffs on me. These bracelets have a rigid hinge that prevents the prisoner from twisting his hands to find a more comfortable position.
Once my restraints were attached, Nikolai took me by the left arm near the shoulder, led me to the official car for escorting detainees, and put me in a special compartment–simply put, a cage, where I had to ride with my hands securely cuffed for several hours. We were headed to the train station.
