My Holidays In Prison

On a recent visit to my family home, I sat down with my 'lil' bro'. He was just about to embark on the journey known as 'homework'. Both internally and externally I thought, 'excellent, i can help here, i can give 'lil bro' my wisdoms and learnings, share some worldly and local knowledges, shed light upon matters, get to the heart of things and uncover all the mysteries'. It also brought me back to my own school days, one day in particular, the day I handed up an essay about my exploits as a stout drinkin' tractor drivin' man of the countryside. After the essay was corrected, I was called out to the main office and asked if i really drove a tractor and drank stout. I replied "no sir, its just a story". I wondered to myself - 'are you not allowed make things up in essays?' Although the answer at the time was a definite NO, I still fight the fight of the oppressed young man at school who feels the need to write the untrue, for all to hear!! In saying that, Little brother junior didn't seem to care, and even though I wrote the following for him, he said 'thanks, but no thanks, i don't think my English teacher would like that....'

The title of my little brothers essay for homework was 'my first 3 days in prison'. Here is my version, writing as a 16 year old manboy.

My Holidays In Prison

The realisation that i killed an entire family with a knife and fork doesnt fully register with me.

Day One

I cant bring my dog Eric to prison. They told me it was against the rules, and I have to obey the rules. I told them I play by no-one's rules but my own. Then they beat me. Lousy on me. I'm innocent I tell hem. Why cant I have my dog when I'm innocent? They tell me to shut up. They say 'Jimmy, you better shut your trap or else we'll shut it for you'. I say 'ok', then I ask them for permission to bring my dog. They give me the look. I give them the look. We are exchanging looks, I feel I am winning them over, until they they start beating me again.

Day Two

'Boy you better get me some cigarettes' - I say to one of the inmates. He doesn't even look at me. He just tells his be-atch 'hey be-atch, beat new boy.' Be-atch then beats me. Ouch. I'm beginning to feel like maybe I shouldn't have killed that family. Maybe its normal for a family to break into someone's holiday caravan and try to burn it down while the owner - me- is fast asleep in bed. Anyway, I killed them and here I am now, getting the sweet beat downs from the prison guards and be-atch. Such is prison. I'm looking forward to a nice shower tomorrow.

Day Three

I must say, a nice shower really gets a man feeling positive about the day. All clean, like a clean machine. There was really nice shower gel. I have to say, I was expecting soap as that's what they always use in the prison movies. I kinda like prison now. Cant wait for dinner, I hear they make a mean pepper steak on Wednesdays.

Bye bye diary

See you tomorrow.

xxx

Jimmy

(if anyone has been affected by the above story, please contact the helpline for enquiries)