By Socalbd
Background: I recently spent four days as an inmate during a live action roleplay. The event took place at a closed but partially refurbished maximum-security prison. This was my first time doing something like this, and I knew I wanted to keep a journal about my experience. However, I wanted to stay in the headspace as much as I could. More about that below. To say it was the experience of a lifetime would be an understatement. But more than that, the community of men I spent four days with was incredible. I was honored to share this experience with them. My thanks to the organizers for their countless hours of preparation. Special thanks to those that had my back, physically and mentally, and allowed me to ride the range of emotions that challenged, scared and comforted me over the four days.
The letters: I arranged with the captain of the guard prior to the event to be able to “write” letters home to family. I would be provided with paper, pen and envelopes in my cell. When there was time, I would write my letters. Each evening, I would place the letter in an open envelope and have it delivered to the captain of the guard. He could read the letter, check it for any information not permitted to be revealed about the prison (he would line out any such writing), he could write comments in the margins if he wanted, and would then “mail” the letter for me. Mailing meant placing the letter in my duffel bag that was being stored during the event. At the end of the event the letters would be waiting for me inside the bag, and I would be able to go back and read them along with any edits the captain of the guard made.
I wrote letters home on each of the first three nights. These letters you now get to share in reading. The letters as transcribed have been edited by me from the originals I wrote. After going back through them there are some very personal thoughts I have opted not to share with the world. I also removed some details about the experience to preserve some aspects as a surprise for anyone who may have the opportunity to participate in a future event weekend. I have found that some of the best experiences are those that happen ,organically and it’s best not ruin it for others.
I hope you enjoy my Letters from Prison.
—Socalbd
Thursday, March 6, 2025
Hi, as you know, I reported to prison today to begin my sentence. The prison provided some paper and a really, cheap pen to be able to write this note to you. I hope this finds you well when you eventually receive it.
I’m told the guards will read all outgoing mail to scan it for anything I’m not supposed to reveal about the prison.
Last night a few of us who were to report today had a final meal together at a local pub. It was a bittersweet night as we enjoyed a last good meal and time to chat, laugh, and explain our anxieties to each other before reporting today.
We thought the address they gave us to report to was the prison. But that wasn’t the case. It was some abandoned building, and as soon as we drove into the parking lot two vehicles approached boxing us in. One was a van. At least 5 guards from the prison came to our car and had us get out. In a matter of moments we were searched, handcuffed, leg cuffed and short shackled. We were then put into the back of the van which can best be described as a storage van for humans. No windows and a long bench to sit on is what there was. They had the A/C on so high you could hang meat in there.
It must have been a 20- to 30-minute drive to the prison. Being in the back of the van with no windows, I have no idea where this place is located.
After pulling us out we were stored in an old part of the prison in badly dilapidated cells. I think they did this to try to scare us.
Eventually we were roughly walked across the prison yard to have intake done. It is as humiliating as you can imagine. I won’t go into details, but I have very short hair now. The entire experience got to me, so much that the doctor who did our health exam couldn’t believe my heart rate and blood pressure. He made me wait a while to take both again and I was finally in a range to be OK.
I’m sitting in my solitary confinement cell now. I was deemed some sort of risk. My cell was empty when I was put in it except for a thin mattress. There wasn’t even any toilet paper. I’m not sure what I did in such a short time to be disciplined without toilet paper.
At least after several hours they brought me toilet paper, this sheet of paper I am writing on, and a pen.
Some of the guards have been professional. Others are very aloof. There’s one whom I can only describe as a princess who thinks he’s a queen.
I have severe feeling of being left out at the moment. From my cell I can hear so much of what is happening below me in the area that’s not for solitary — voices, doors opening and closing, activity all below me. I’m locked in a blank white box with a grey door and only a slot to receive food and basic needs.
The food at lunch was better than I expected. I hear dinner may not be the same from conversations I can overhear. My door has a thin window so I can talk to the guards face to face when they come to do their checks.
It’s so lonely. Just me and my thoughts in this cell. I get it, though, I’m an inmate now and just a number to be called by.
Maybe tomorrow things will change. I’m not sure why I’m being kept in solitary. Maybe it’s a first day thing to scare me to be compliant if I know this existence is possible.
I don’t want to burden you any longer with this note. I’ll write again tomorrow if I’m allowed, and maybe every day that I’m here. You don’t need to write back. Just knowing we are joined through these notes is enough.
It’s only a partial day and I miss you so much. S-
Metal would like to thank the author, Socalbd, for this account, and for the picture from inside the big house!