By Inmate 220418

Sunday – Day 3

I slept even worse that night, I woke up to the sound of a guard coming into the block shining his light, they must have done their rounds that night. Waking up and not knowing what time it was isn’t an easy thing to adapt to, I tried to look out the window to see if I could see any sunlight but at last there was nothing. The bars on the cell cast a nice shadow against the wall, something so photogenic and calming really painted a beautiful picture.

Eventually, the courtesy lights came on and that was the sign that it was morning, I got up as I did the past two days without making my bed. The same guard who did the morning check the past two mornings comes in, “good morning inmate” with a look of disgust, knowing he was a part of the brawl last night, “how did you sleep?” “I slept fine” I replied, “great” drop your sheets on the group, fold your blanket, and be ready for breakfast soon.

We’re lined up and we’re escorted to breakfast, with the same pattern of stopping just before the chow hall and repeating our inmate number to the guard. “Sir, Inmate 220418 requesting permission to cross the red line Sir.” Breakfast consisted of biscuits and gravy, and the same god damn coffee as yesterday. During breakfast, one of the inmates gets the bright idea to switch tables just to spite the guards since they left us alone for breakfast. Xanax came in and said “I know you all switched tables” and a burst of laughter came from the group of inmates. He told us “hurry up, we have one more thing planned for you all.”

After wrapping up breakfast, we’re lined up, locked in cuffs connected to a bell chained. We’re then escorted back into the small halfway past the padded cell, and after passing a double door, we can see a new room. What resembled a small court room with two rows of chairs. A big wooden desk, and several guards surrounding the chairs. It was time for court.

I sat at the end of the first row as the rest of the inmates slowly filed in. We weren’t given much time to prepare our cases, but one thing was for certain, it was about to be wild. Eventually a new guy walks into the courtroom wearing a tie, he sticks out like a sore thumb in a sea of orange and black uniforms. He introduces himself as the defence attorney, I respond “when did you graduate law school? Five minutes ago?” “I’m here to represent you” he pounces back, I know I’m screwed.

Eventually the judge comes into the court room, we all stand up as Judge Loud Mouth comes in, we all have a seat. “This court is in session, and if any one of you refers to me as Judge Judy, we will have a problem,” he said to all of us. One by one, we are called out, and have our quick trial. Each court case is quick and has very little defense from the counsel, eventually they call my name.

I slowly stand up and hear my charges, “Right, so you’re being charged with insulting your defense attorney” said by the British guard. “Did he?” said by the judge, “Yes he did, I heard him myself.” “While he did, he was asking a question” said by the DA and a small argument broke out amongst the court. I said “May I represent myself?” “Please go ahead” said the DA. I can feel all eyes slowly look at me. Fuck, I’m so glad this isn’t a real court case I think to myself, I pause and said “I did insult my DA and I’d do it again!”

The look of defeat fades over my DA, the whole room burst into laughter, “Alright shut up” said the judge. “Well, I find you guilty of insulting the DA. I sentence you to return at some point in the future… without the jacket.” The room continues to laugh as my trial is ended. The rest of the trials go about as expected, filled with inside jokes, anyone who resides outside the US is ordered to return to the country “as fast as humanly possible.” Only two inmates are found guilty of their crimes including me.

As we wrap up in court, the admins of F22 come out and express their gratitude towards everyone for coming out, and we wrap up the session. We are sent back to the chow hall where all of our belongings remain, and are uncuffed. The rest of the morning is filled with speaking with the guards out of character, and just talking to these individuals. You can tell the energy in the room has shifted from this strict uptight environment, and is now a warm environment. In my opinion, these are genuinely the coolest men you’d ever met, to go from this hard-ass guard to having a great conversation. I trusted my life with these individuals and would do so in a heartbeat.

Around noon, I pack the rest of my things and say my final goodbyes while I drive back to the airport. To end my experience, I started to think of my next visit, after all, I was sentenced back at some point in the future.

The End

Metal would like to thank the author, Inmate 220418, for this true story! Contact the author on Blue Sky, @Inmate220418).

Learn more about Facility 22 here.