Finally, Freedom

Stuart was desperate to get there, desperate to get anywhere in fact. He had spent the last six years in a maximum security prison in the town of Flea, the last six weeks of which in solitary confinement for his own protection. 

Stuart was arrested for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was in the foster system and the public defender he was given was useless. He was wrongfully convicted of murdering the little old lady, Mrs. Hope, who lived opposite his foster home who he used to do garden work for. Although no one else believed it wasn’t he who swung that axe, he knew, and because of that, his conscience was clear. He was however, sick to his stomach knowing that whoever killed that sweet, innocent old lady had gotten away with it. 

As Stuart was only seventeen, yet convicted as an adult due to the brutality of the crime, it was predicted that he would join a gang once inside. Instead, however, he kept his nose down and didn’t really converse with any of the other inmates. He spent most of his time reading. 

When he was approached by the warden, who recognised that he didn’t belong there, he was given the opportunity of moving to a minimum security prison. He was dubious. The warden asked him to try and find out where the drugs were entering the facility. Stuart, like almost all of the other inmates, and the guards for that matter, knew the drugs were coming into and getting distributed by ‘Jesus’, one of the toughest, most dangerous characters residing there. Stuart agreed to the deal on the condition that he went into solitary confinement until the move was sanctioned.

Six weeks later, the cell door swung open, flooding the room with light. It was finally time. He was offered a shower and given an orange jump suit to wear, both were taken with gratitude.

As the guard walked him onto the prisons mini bus, the rain and strong wind felt good on Stuart’s skin. He stopped dead in his tracks and held his head up to the sky, drinking in natures storm. The guard tugged on his arm, ‘keep moving!’. Stuart scanned its windows to see if he would have any company on the journey but the rain was so heavy he could hardly make out a window, yet alone what was behind one. Once onboard, he was glad to see the bus was empty, well except for the guard sitting opposite.  

Out of the corner of his eye, Stuart could see an orange blob come closer to the vehicle. His heart sank as one of Jesus’s underlings came aboard smiling, followed by another, and another. Stuart suddenly felt sick. Had the past six weeks in that cell, alone, been for nothing? Was this a setup?

Finally the engine turned over and the bus started slow and steady in the extremely heavy downpour. Stuart could look nowhere but ahead. Fear crept in. 

Not ten minutes into the journey the bus started hydroplaning. Stuart grabbed the seat in front of him, his nails digging into the leather. 

‘Hold on!’ The driver screamed and ‘CRASH!’ 

Stuart was thrown around the rolling bus, his life flashed before his eyes. He was brought to the day he was arrested. He was on his evening run listening to Bach Cello Suite no.1 in G major Prelude, which was playing on a loop. He was going to play for a chance of a scholarship into Berklee College of Music, a chance to make something of his life. Suddenly he was on the ground, pinned by two cops, his dream dissolved in an instant.

When he woke, he touched his head with his shackled hands. He was bleeding. He tried to move. Thankfully nothing felt broken. He noticed that the seats were now where the roof was supposed to be. The guard who was opposite him before the crash was either unconscious or dead, either way, Stuart wasn't about to wait to find out. He reached for the set of keys the guard kept on his belt freeing his hands. Before he carefully climbed out the window, cutting his hand in the process, he looked around what once was a bus. He could only see one other orange jump suit. He had a choice, he could either wait for help, or, he could run. Quickly processing the decision in his head, he came to the conclusion that he had nothing to lose, he was always going to be seen as an axe murderer, so he ran.

As the rain pelted down on him, he climbed up the ditch the bus rolled down into. There was a fallen tree in the middle of the road. ‘The bus must have hit it!’ He thought to himself. 

‘There you are!’ He heard from behind him. He turned around, the rain still pelting down. He could see two blurred orange dots getting bigger by the second and knew they were after him. He ran into a thick sea of trees. He heard them behind him all the way. He came to a halt when he reached a quick flowing river. 

‘Snowflake!’ He heard. The other two were on his tail. The tall trees were taking the brunt of the rain. Once again he was faced with two options; run or fight. This time he decided to fight. He picked up a thick fallen tree branch and started swinging blindly.

‘You trying to run chico?’ He heard from his right, catching movement on his left. He was surrounded. There was no avoiding them now, unless of course he opted to jump into the river where he would probably drown. 

‘I’m not ready to die!’ He shouted into the void.

‘You’ll be begging to die when were finished with you!’ Came from his left. The orange jumpsuits made it easier to see his opponents. His heart was beating as fast as the river was flowing. He was afraid it was going to come out of his mouth. 

Finally he was able to see his opponents faces. They both had teardrop tattoos under their right eye. He knew that meant they had killed someone. He decided he wasn't going down without a fight and charged at the one on his right, the one on his left jumping on top of him. 

He felt something sharp pierce the skin on his back. It fuelled his fire as he turned and swung the thick tree branch, like a baseball bat, feeling it engage with the body of the orange figure. The other one grabbed his swinging arm and pulled him close to his body. 

‘Oh you are going to regret that!’ We’re the last words Stuart heard as he felt another sharp object being thrust in and out of his stomach over and over again. 

Stuart dropped to his knees. He looked down at his hands which were covered in blood. He started to see white spots, his hearing getting muffled. He could see Mrs. Hope in the distance with a mug of tea in one hand, a sandwich in the other. He could see her smile as he took a bite of the delicious egg salad sandwich, her glowing smile getting clearer. He could feel the tea trickle warmly down his throat and finally he felt free.

pictire from pixabay