The security checks were thorough, tedious, and unnecessarily troublesome. There was heavy equipment for examination that I did not even know existed. As I was going through the security check, I could see prisoners in the yard looking at us, some had an excessively malicious expression, while others simply couldn’t care less. WACK. Someone fell down the dirt floor of the prison yard. A newcomer from a different bus was screaming swears and slurs on the ground. The officer right next to her had a pack of white powder in his hand. I looked away from them, pretending that I didn’t notice anything. Are cops allowed to do that in broad daylight? But then reality hit me as I realized that the smuggler probably had a humiliating low score on her Importance Scale, or else they would have put her in a different prison, a better prison. The view of the prison up close was quite disgusting. It was like they did not have anyone on janitorial duty, and it has been neglected in the hygiene area for quite an extended period of time. The thought of me staying here for anytime longer than an hour made me throw up inside. It filled me with even more dread when I realized that I was most likely going to spend significantly more time than an hour in here. The average amount of time that it took to get a trial in the Western Union was a week, give or take a few days. It was my turn for the security check. They patted me down, check for guns and drugs, and whatever could’ve offended them, needless to say, I was clean. They then took a blood sample of me for a drug test, I wondered if that needle was even clean. Then, I walked to the entrant of the building. They scanned me up and down with a big, heavy machine, to see if I had anything hidden inside my body. In the gigantic, clear machine, I could see the prison halls, even worse, I could smell it. It was a foul smell, a smell that was like a badly built sewer system. The benches that were stuck to the walls looked dirty and greasy like no one has cleaned them ever, yet the prisoners that just walked through security were sitting on them, already dressed in their prison uniform. I walked out of the machine as they finished examining me, to see that the lights of the main prison hall were barely working, filling the place with spots of darkness. The entire process of security process was guarded by heavily armored guards, with dogs that were always on alert. A man with visible wrinkles on his face was waiting at the end of the process.

“Shirt size?” He asked me with his hoarse voice, head buried in a few documents.

“Medium,” he barely glanced at me and wrote down something on the piece of paper as he mumbled my measurements.

Paper? Combined with the undesirable aspects of this prison, I came to the conclusion that this place must be heavily underfunded. I scanned my surroundings,19 cameras, 216 beds, 54 rooms, and 4 beds each. From what I heard about prison life, even though I was only going to be here for about a week from so, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to meeting my roommates. Or who knew, they could be good people, I might only have been under a force of prejudice. The old man went into a room and walked out with some orange clothes in his hand.

“You have to change right now.”

“Where do I change?” I asked sheepishly, he looked at me in surprise, as if he was shocked by my naivety.

“Right here,” Said the old man. Right in front of these people? Are there no bathrooms or anything? “You can’t go anywhere before they put you into your cells, but you have to be in your uniform, when you finished, gimme your clothes and I will send them back to your family,” he continued, as if reading my mind. He soon turned to the next person that passed by security, the psychopath that tried to befriend me or something on the bus. What was his name again? Right, Alexei.

That must have been some sort of humiliation, making prisoners dress in broad daylight. Either way, I did it hurriedly while trying not to think about the possible amount of people watching me. They shouldn’t mind, they had to do it too, not just me. After getting into the orange prison uniform, I sat down on one of the dirty benches by the side of the wall. I wouldn’t have sat down there if it wasn’t for my legs giving out from standing in such a long line. Alexei quickly changed his clothes into his new prison uniforms and walked over to me.

“Hey ya, mind if I sit down?” He sat down before I could give my answer, making me a little annoyed, but I didn’t mind too much either way. “How long did they convict you?”

“Didn’t convict me yet, still waiting for a trial,” I replied.

He looked at me as if my face suddenly morphed, his mouth widened and he opened his mouth, about to tell me something when one of the prison guards suddenly yelled out.

“ATTENTION!” Everyone looked at him as his voice echoed throughout the entire main hall.

“I shall now explain the rules for this prison. Needless to say, no fighting, I know how violent people like you can be.” He said, referring to people with a low Importance score. “Curfew will be at 10 P.M and lights out at 10:15. Breakfasts will be at 6 A.M in the morning, and you will have free time to roam the prison in authorized locations, such as the yard, until lunch and dinner. Now follow your guards to your assigned prison cells!”

That was more freedom than I thought prison would allow. We basically had twelve hours of free time every single day, ironically, that was more than I had outside. A guard went to me and Alexei with the tattooed man that I saw on the bus behind him, he confirmed our identities and told us to follow him. He led us to a crappy prison cell with four run-down bunk beds. From my eyes, I quickly measured the room’s dimensions, to find that the room was twelve feet by twelve feet cube with a filthy toilet by the side of the door. The walls had moss growing on them, and the smell was as filthy as an unkept barn. At least the room was to the west, so we might get a view of the sun setting through the filthy barred-up hole that they called a window. I guessed this was where I was to stay for the next week until they get me a trial. Alexei ran into the room and jumped on one of the beds first, claiming it as his. The tattooed man just slowly walked into the lower compartment of the other bunk bed and sat down on it. I didn’t want to argue with either of them, so I just quietly climbed to the top bed of Alexei’s bunk bed. The guard soon left us alone. A few minutes have passed in silence beside Alexei maniacally giggling to himself under me, and then the tattooed man spoke up.

“So what yall in here for?” He said in a low tone. “I will start, murder.”

That did not surprise me in the slightest, but he had a sad tone when he said it, I wondered what were the circumstances that had let him commit such an act.

“I blew up a building!” Alexei said in an elevated tone. Well, that was certainly something I thought he would do, he seemed to be excessively enthusiastic when he talked about explosives on the bus after all. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell them or not, the crime that I committed was petty compared to the crimes my new roommates have committed. After about ten seconds of consideration, I spoke up anyway.

“Smashed my boss’s face,” I said monotonously while trying to hide the satisfied feeling as I relieved that moment for a bit.

“Nice!” Alexei said below me.

The man with the tattoos started asking more questions, normal questions, like our names, our age, and what was our jobs before we came here. Both Alexei and I were hooked on the conversation with the man and actively engaged in it. Turned out the tattooed man, Paul Elliot, was a humble barber before he committed a murder. He never told us why he committed the murder, or who did he kill, but he did say that he regretted it. Alexei refused outright to tell us what his job was before he came here, or much about himself at all. All that we got from him was his age, twenty, and that he dropped out of a crappy high school after learning that no college would accept him for his low Importance score of 12%. He even said that he admired me for my Inspiring score of 0%, not sure if he was mocking me or not, but it seemed like he genuinely admired it. The other guy had no reaction whatsoever when the subject of my humiliating score was brought up, his life was probably as hard as mine, or as any of ours. When it was my turn, I told them my name, how I was suffering in high school, and my previous job as a janitor due to my Importance Score.

“And now, I am here, waiting for a trial,” I finished reciting my back story to them. I could see the sun slowly going down from the tiny window in our room. Alexei laughed out from under me as I said that, and Paul looked at me with sorry eyes. I squinted my eyes in puzzlement as I questioned why they were doing it.

“You really think they would get you a trial? When you are a Zero?” Alexei asked, still

laughing at my naivete.

“You are not going to get a trial, kid. I’m sorry, it just ain’t going to happen.”

I looked at them, confused, angry, desperate. Negative emotions flowed through me as a reality check hit my mind like a truck. “Why not?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. It would be easier to not spend all that time and money on a Zero such as myself, it would be easier just to pretend that people like me didn’t exist.

“If a person like me, with at least 7% on the Importance Scale, were denied a lawyer and had to wait five years before getting a trial that sentenced me to live in this prison for the rest of my life. I don’t think a Zero would even get a trial.”

I wanted to cry, but I was not sad. I was angry, angry at the world for treating people like me this way. Angry that my freedom was taken away indefinitely, without even a fair trial. Angry that my old boss has led me to be here. Angry about how I was treated in school, or treated in life. I punched the wall only to hurt myself through my anger, but I kept punching it, not knowing what to do. I was filled with distraught. My mind was clouded by negative emotions, I couldn’t think even think clearly. I did not know where to, or how to express this anger. The bell rang to tell all of the inmates that it was dinner time. Alexei was still laughing, but he had quieted down a bit. I walked out of the room while avoiding eye contact with both of them, as I looked down into the stream of inmates rushing through the cafeteria.

I couldn’t take it, I must escape, I would not have my freedom taken away forever, not like that.