Prison Stories: ADMISSION OF GUILT (new)
October 16th 2006 11:15
STORY BLOCK - Rated R
Admission of Guilt
by
Cathy Jourdan
Randy Price threw his armful of clothes into the washing machine, but not until after he had washed the drum out with disinfectant. There were too many gross people here to just use the machine without cleaning it first. He rearranged the clothes to make them fill the drum evenly. Flipping on the switch, Randy measured one cup of the state soap and poured it in. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he would end up in the penitentiary, especially since he did not rape that woman. Five to ten years the judge had said with such callousness. At that moment, Randy died inside. He had always been a law abiding citizen and most of his friends and family called him a “do-gooder.” Hell, he wouldn’t hurt a flea, much less brutally beat and rape a stranger. It had been five years and thousands of letters pleading with people to believe in his innocence and still no one would listen. They only thing he ever got in response was that every inmate was innocent.
Randy’s thoughts were interrupted when the day shift officer entered the laundry room.
“Hey, the case worker wants you in her office,” he said in his crass way.
One just never really knew how to take this guy. Sometimes he seemed like a compassionate person and at other times, he seemed like a cold hearted asshole. One thing Randy knew was that he played a lot. “Does she really want me?” he asked just to make sure.
“Yeah....what do you think...I’d lie about something like that? You better get your dead ass up there, she sounded real mad!” The officer chuckled and left the room.
Randy closed the lid on the washer and went upstairs. He knocked on the door.
Ms. Smith looked up, smiled and then waved him in. She didn’t look mad to him. In fact, she always seemed to be smiling. Randy couldn’t remember a time that he saw her lose her temper. Most of the inmates really liked her. She was sort of a mother image for the guys. A little overweight, she dressed very conservative and always gave you her undivided attention when you went to her with a problem.
Randy opened the door and enter. Ms. Smith got up and removed some papers from a chair in front of her desk.
“Have a seat Mr. Price,” she said as she returned to her seat.
Randy sat down and watched her as she lit a cigarette. Mr. Price...he liked that in her. She always addressed inmates that way. He liked it because it made you feel like a real person...not just an inmate.
“Listen, I was reviewing your file, because of your parole hearing and I noticed that you haven’t done any groups...that won’t look good when the board looks at you next month.”
“I know I haven’t done any.”
Ms. Smith eyed him curiously. “You seem like an intelligent guy...don’t you want to get out of here?”
“Look, Ms. Smith, I shouldn’t have ever even been here. I didn’t commit any crime! What am I gonna take a group for...?” he said raising his voice.
“Well, for starters, I’d recommend stress management.”
Randy slumped down in his chair. “Sorry...I’m just so frustrated. I’m locked up for a crime I didn’t do, nobody believes me, I’ve lost my wife and kids over this and now, you tell me that the Parole Board is not gonna look at me to kindly.”
Ms. Smith took a long drag off her cigarette and then spoke softly, “Well, you do what you feel is right, but if you decide you want into some groups, I’ve got a little pull with the Psychology Department and I can probably get you in pretty quick. I really think counseling will help you.”
Randy thanked her and left the office. He knew she was right about the Parole Board, but other inmates had already told him the requirement to be admitted into the groups. You had to admit to your crime and he couldn’t do it. He’d just have to take his chances at the board.
Randy stood in front of the three men. It reminded him of his time in the military. He had made sure that his clothing was clean and pressed and that his hair was trimmed neatly. Surely these people with all their experience could see that he was no risk to society, even if they didn’t believe he was innocent. One of the panel members asked Randy to step out after they were done talking to him. Randy obeyed, making sure that he closed the door behind him quietly. Outside the little room, Randy paced nervously as he watched for the red light above the door to come on, which was a signal to come back into the room for their decision. The light came on. Randy inhaled deeply, smoothed the front of his pants and then entered the room.
Continued tomorrow.....
Admission of Guilt
by
Cathy Jourdan
Randy Price threw his armful of clothes into the washing machine, but not until after he had washed the drum out with disinfectant. There were too many gross people here to just use the machine without cleaning it first. He rearranged the clothes to make them fill the drum evenly. Flipping on the switch, Randy measured one cup of the state soap and poured it in. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he would end up in the penitentiary, especially since he did not rape that woman. Five to ten years the judge had said with such callousness. At that moment, Randy died inside. He had always been a law abiding citizen and most of his friends and family called him a “do-gooder.” Hell, he wouldn’t hurt a flea, much less brutally beat and rape a stranger. It had been five years and thousands of letters pleading with people to believe in his innocence and still no one would listen. They only thing he ever got in response was that every inmate was innocent.
Randy’s thoughts were interrupted when the day shift officer entered the laundry room.
“Hey, the case worker wants you in her office,” he said in his crass way.
One just never really knew how to take this guy. Sometimes he seemed like a compassionate person and at other times, he seemed like a cold hearted asshole. One thing Randy knew was that he played a lot. “Does she really want me?” he asked just to make sure.
“Yeah....what do you think...I’d lie about something like that? You better get your dead ass up there, she sounded real mad!” The officer chuckled and left the room.
Randy closed the lid on the washer and went upstairs. He knocked on the door.
Ms. Smith looked up, smiled and then waved him in. She didn’t look mad to him. In fact, she always seemed to be smiling. Randy couldn’t remember a time that he saw her lose her temper. Most of the inmates really liked her. She was sort of a mother image for the guys. A little overweight, she dressed very conservative and always gave you her undivided attention when you went to her with a problem.
Randy opened the door and enter. Ms. Smith got up and removed some papers from a chair in front of her desk.
“Have a seat Mr. Price,” she said as she returned to her seat.
Randy sat down and watched her as she lit a cigarette. Mr. Price...he liked that in her. She always addressed inmates that way. He liked it because it made you feel like a real person...not just an inmate.
“Listen, I was reviewing your file, because of your parole hearing and I noticed that you haven’t done any groups...that won’t look good when the board looks at you next month.”
“I know I haven’t done any.”
Ms. Smith eyed him curiously. “You seem like an intelligent guy...don’t you want to get out of here?”
“Look, Ms. Smith, I shouldn’t have ever even been here. I didn’t commit any crime! What am I gonna take a group for...?” he said raising his voice.
“Well, for starters, I’d recommend stress management.”
Randy slumped down in his chair. “Sorry...I’m just so frustrated. I’m locked up for a crime I didn’t do, nobody believes me, I’ve lost my wife and kids over this and now, you tell me that the Parole Board is not gonna look at me to kindly.”
Ms. Smith took a long drag off her cigarette and then spoke softly, “Well, you do what you feel is right, but if you decide you want into some groups, I’ve got a little pull with the Psychology Department and I can probably get you in pretty quick. I really think counseling will help you.”
Randy thanked her and left the office. He knew she was right about the Parole Board, but other inmates had already told him the requirement to be admitted into the groups. You had to admit to your crime and he couldn’t do it. He’d just have to take his chances at the board.
Randy stood in front of the three men. It reminded him of his time in the military. He had made sure that his clothing was clean and pressed and that his hair was trimmed neatly. Surely these people with all their experience could see that he was no risk to society, even if they didn’t believe he was innocent. One of the panel members asked Randy to step out after they were done talking to him. Randy obeyed, making sure that he closed the door behind him quietly. Outside the little room, Randy paced nervously as he watched for the red light above the door to come on, which was a signal to come back into the room for their decision. The light came on. Randy inhaled deeply, smoothed the front of his pants and then entered the room.
Continued tomorrow.....
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