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This is hell.
This is everything I feared it would be and worse. The other inmates soon got word of the gay probation officer who had killed a sixteen year old boy. Of course, if I were just your bog standered murderer than I’d be left alone. Revered most likely. There are other murderers in here, after all it is a Cat A prison. But it’s everything else that makes me a target, despite none of them knowing or caring to understand the story behind it.
From the moment I stepped foot in here there has been a target on my back. The shouts of “nonce” constantly through the walls as I’ve tried & failed to sleep. I’ve been beaten. Had shit mixed in my food. Been set upon in the shower block by men jeering “But I thought you liked this?” and laughing as I begged them to stop.
I’ve pleaded with the prison wardens for solitary confinement. Some peace from the daily onslaught of fear and abuse but it is constantly denied. Even after they found me in my cell, blood pouring from where I had dragged my wrists over and over again on the underside of the rusted tap of the sink to try and end it all, all they did was patch me up in the medical room and send me back into the lion's den.
I know it’s my own fault that I am in here. A consequence of my cowardice, fear and self loathing. But I swear I never meant to kill him.
I loved him.
I had never felt a love like it. For once in my life I felt like myself. I felt free and happy. I didn’t want to lose him. I don’t even remember doing it properly. The whole awful moment is like a blur to me still. A split second, knee jerk reaction that had horrific consequences. I blocked it from my mind as I stumbled away from the horror I had committed. Pushed it deeper and deeper into my subconscious until it was easy to think of it as something I had seen in a film or something. Horrible, burned into my memories; but not my act. Then when Sal was arrested…the guilt started to rise up in me, a little voice in my head telling me to confess, that this was nothing to do with her; that I couldn’t let her lose her freedom and her life because of me. But the fear stopped me. That cowardice that has blighted my whole life once again rearing its ugly head and stopping me from doing the right thing. Because it was easier that way. And I hate myself for it. So I pushed it down, just like the memories of what I did and tried to live a normal life. Meeting Karen helped. She had a ready made life that I could just walk into. And she was older than me, meaning that sex wouldn’t feature much on the agenda, or so I thought. The times I had to pretend to be enjoying myself when all I wanted to do was get her off me. It wasn’t like that with Sal. Yes, she couldn’t fulfil my urges but that was not her fault and I tried desperately when I was with her to push those urges away. To be normal. And there was a love there. Just a different kind of love. Yet because I was too scared to admit who I really was all of those years ago, for fear of hurting those I love, for fear of rejection; I’ve managed to destroy so many innocent lives.
I cannot live like this anymore. I don’t deserve to live. So I’ve already decided that I’m going to do it. I’m already putting the plans in place. One day soon they are going to find me hanging in this cell; finally free of thirty odd years of pain and lies. There is a letter addressed to Sal under my mattress, telling her once again just how sorry I am for everything I put her through and begging for her forgiveness which I know she will not give and I do not blame her for that. I put her through too much just to try and save myself from this hell. Was it worth it? No. The guilt of what I did to her just added to the mountain of guilt I already have festering inside of me. I should have ended it all years ago, instead of living this lie. Yet I was too much of a coward. There’s that word again. But now I’m in too much pain to be scared any more.
I just want peace.