《The Tower of Opportunity》Chapter 11: Reminded of the Past 2

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I pull back the handle to one of the cabinets in my kitchen, and a screeching noise is heard from hinges as they open. Looking inside I see a familiar water jug surrounded by a bunch of clear plastic bags covered in a whitish residue, with one of the bags holding a singular pill.

'Last one. I guess I need to get another car.'

I then take the pill out of the bag along with taking the water jug out of the cabinet, and pop the pill into my mouth. Unscrewing the cap on the water jug, I take a sip, and swallow down the pill and water alike. A surge of calmness flows downwards throughout my body from my brain within seconds. I then screw the cap from the water jug back on, place it back into the cabinet, and close it.

Once again I walk to the door wear, wear my coat, and pick up my gun. Looking at the gun, a singular bullet can still be seen in the cylinder, from the last time I had taken the gun with me. Popping the cylinder out I pull out the bullet, and toss it in the air. While it rotates slowly while dropping towards my open palm, a hole can be seen on the bottom of the bullet, where the primer previously was. Catching the bullet, I place it back into my coat pocket, and put the gun back into my back waistband.

Opening the door and stepping outside, reveals the familiar scenery of the neighborhood I live in, reminiscent of a city that survived an air raid. Numerous potholes litter the street, just like the craters left behind by exploded bombs, caved in roofs aplenty, and pieces of concrete lying around the surrounding area. Choosing a direction I start walking, hoping to find another car sooner than later.

***

On the side of an empty gas station, I see an old white compact car parked on the side with a shadow of a person in the drivers seat. I begin walking up slowly and reach into my waistband grabbing the handle of my gun with familiar ease. As I get closer, I see that it is a slightly overweight bald middle-aged man, eating a bag of chips. I walk next to the window, pull out my gun and point it at him and say, "Get out of the car if you want to keep your life."

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The man's face, instead of showing the familiar look of fear that I have seen countless times before, morphs into an expression of anger. Feeling slight fear from that expression my movements freeze for a short second, and during that time the man opens the car door, to what looks to be, as hard as he can, throwing me to the ground. Looking back to him I see him reach into his glove compartment, grasping onto the black handle of a familiar looking object, and pulling out what is attached to.

'Shit that's a gun.', I think before pushing myself off the ground and sprinting as fast as I can away from the car.

"You ain't getting away from me you fucking scum.", I can hear him yell from behind me while sprinting, but the man is faster than me so I can hear his quick footsteps getting ever closer.

Suddenly I feel two stinging pains in my lower back before a surge of electricity flows through me, freezing all my movements. My body tilts forwards and I am quickly heading towards the curb of the sidewalk that I was so close to reaching. Closing my eyes in fear a hard impact is felt upon my forehead and my consciousness starts fading from me. I feel a cold metal touch my wrists and my body being lifted off the ground. The only thought still within my head as my mind leaves me is, 'I'm a fucking idiot. I just tried to rob a cop.'

***

My body is suddenly jolted, quickly moving my body forwards and slamming into the soft cushion in front of me. Blinking the drowsiness out of my eyes, I look around and I am in that same car I just tried to steal. The door next me opens and a hand unclicks my seatbelt, and grabs my upper arm, pulling me out of the car roughly. Looking up at the face of the person who just grabbed me, it's that middle-aged man from earlier. He starts dragging me towards the building that the car is parked in front of, the Detroit Police Department 10th Precinct. I enter the one story building, and as I look back to the outside for my last glimpse of freedom, i see the high flying United States flag fluttering in the wind, as if it is waving me goodbye. Soon I am documented, and shoved inside my cell after my handcuffs are removed. I then sit on the thin mattress, and let out a sigh before I lay down and try to sleep.

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***

A gavel bangs down three times before the voices in the courtroom quiet down.

"The defendant is hereby declared guilty of one count of assault with a deadly weapon against a police officer, and one count of attempted vehicle theft of an unmarked police vehicle, and shall be confined in Gus Harrison Correctional Facility for 15 years without parole."

***

I step into the prisoner transport bus wearing heavy chains, and sit in a seat near the back. About an hour and a half later, the bus stops in front of the prison an I am escorted off of the bus and into the building.

"My name is Clarence Thomas, and I am the warden of this prison. You are all new prisoners that will be here for some time, and I have only three rules here. First you must listen exactly what the guards and I say, or you get one week in solitary. Secondly, I expect you to stay on schedule here, that means being up when you are supposed to, eating when you are supposed, and sleeping when you are supposed to, and if you don't, it's one week in solitary. Lastly, if any one of you tries to escape, it's 6 months in solitary. Are we clear?"

"Yes.", a couple people respond.

"It's yes sir.", the warden replies.

"Yes sir.", says every new inmate including myself.

***

A blaring whistle snaps me awake, while also causing a ringing noise in my ears, and the sounds of opening cell doors are heard soon after.

'Will he do that every day?'

I roll over and step onto the bunk ladder, and before climbing all the way down I tidy my sheets. Stepping off the ladder, my feet make a slight slapping sound when impacting on the concrete floor. I walk through the now open cell door, avoiding the imposing figure of my cellmate.

I soon begin to stare at the floor, following the wavy patterns in the concrete with my eyes, and zoning out all the noises surrounding me.

"...an. Mitchel, Ryan.", a voice booms, snapping me out of my daze.

"Uh, yes.", I stutter back to the guard.

"Pay more attention next time.", he says while marking something on his clipboard.

"Yes sir."

He then starts calling out more names, while I go back to staring at the patterns on the floor, and shortly after the sounds of countless footsteps can be heard. Turning my head to the right, the rest of the prisoners are walking towards the showers, and I start walking, a bit fast, to catch up to them.

***

'Now that I'm used to it days in prison just become a blur, and I can hardly tell which day is which anymore. Wake up, shower, breakfast, work, lunch, work, prison yard, dinner, narcotics anonymous, then back to my cell and staring at the ceiling until its lights out, over and over again.

***

"Do you want to leave here?", a voice whispers to me in the dark of night.

"Of course.", I mumble back, half asleep.

"You will have your wish soon.", the voice says back to me.

"Who are you?", I say trying to open my eyes.

"You will find out in the future."

Barely opening my eyes, I see the shadow of a body above me, only the grin plastered on its face clear. Startled, I blink my eyes in disbelief but there is nothing above me after I open my eyes again.

'Must've been a dream.', I think before closing my eyes once again and drifting back to sleep.

***

A television in a nearly empty bar plays the news to a disinterested audience, the newscaster's voice echoing around the room.

"July 27th, the date of the great disappearance where over 10 million prisoners incarcerated around the world disappeared. It has been called a disaster by some, and a blessing by many. Even ten years later, the world is still clueless on where they are."

"Hey barkeep, change the channel to some football."

With a click, the news broadcast is cut off, and the rampant cheering of crowds fills the bar.

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