Despite all the love, sweat and heat, make no mistake, we were still in prison. A miserable, suppressed, restricted life. Being in love with Jake was both amazing and frustrating. He was amazing, but it frustrated me how little I could for him. I wished I could serve him, massage him, cook for him, be dutiful in ways other than in bed. There's so much in prison that I couldn't act upon. Outside of bed, it frustrated me how little I could do for him. While those were my daily frustrations, I was reminded by the reality of prison when an even more terrifying and violent day arrived, three months into my sentence.
The prison air conditioning finally stopped working, no more than a frustration in the outside world. But here with over 150 prisoners, most of whom ended up in here because of their stupidly hot temperaments, it made for quite a dangerous atmosphere.
On a Friday afternoon, a gang squabble at lunch unexpectedly turned into a huge brawl. The guards lost control and retreated, holding the prison under lockdown, trapping all of us in the lunch room. In the scuffle, the inmates arrested one of the guards, holding him hostage like a mob.
The warden acted swiftly and ruthlessly. Within 15 minutes the guards returned fully equipped from the armoury. Some stood on the pathways above, while some at the gate. They began by lobbing riot grenades at us. Immediately most inmates including Jake and I hit the ground to duck. They then opened the gate, marched in with shields and opened fire on whoever was in their way as they tried to clear a path and rescue their colleague. Rubber bullets, but still very painful nonetheless, even deadly at close range.
As we all stuck to the ground like cowering rats, the warden then walked in rather casually, through the path that the guards made. He went to the centre table, kicked off any trays that were still present and stood atop the table, in the middle of all of us, no one being able to do a thing about it.
He spoke very casually, "Right, now remember where you are, and remember what you are. We are working on the air circulation problem, but till then I will have order in this place."
And with that, he walked out followed by the guards. They resumed their normal duties, though remained in their riot gear.
We all began to get up. "Jake, Jake are you okay?" I asked, noticing that he's not all well.
"I can't move my arms," He replied.
"Oh my God Jake!" I exclaimed as I saw his back. He had terrible bruising throughout his upper back and shoulders. One of the riot grenades were thrown near him. He and many others got it bad.
I wasn't hurt too badly, and helped him up and went with the others to the medical wing. "Fortunately Jake, it's not as bad as it looks. Your shoulder's dislocated. We'll set it back and it should take 4 to 5 days to be back to normal. Painkillers will be sufficient. You will however, have mobility challenges at least for 3 days," the doctor explained. Jake looked at me. He was very stressed out.
"Anything I could do to help doctor?" I asked.
"Are you his cellmate?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied.
