Walking into the prison felt like walking into a medieval castle at the height of the dark ages.  I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever leave. 

The humiliation of ‘processing in’ was surpassed only by my fear of the unknown.  I had never been to prison, and now not only was I going to prison, I was going to death row, the home of men like John Wayne Gacy and the so-called ‘I-57 Killer’, among others. 

Up until then, I had only read about such men in newspapers or saw them on television.  I never, even in my worst nightmare, thought I would be counted among them, considered one of them.  It was then that the reality of the situation smacked me in the face so hard I could almost feel the sting followed by the bruise.  This was worse than when I came to grips with the fact that I was in a life and death situation.  These men were hardened killers, and I was now among them and meant nothing to them. 

At that moment, right then and there, I decided they wouldn’t mean anything to me either.  I was ready to do whatever I needed to do in order to survive.  I hardened my heart and dismissed all thought of the outside world.   My only reference material was movies I had seen, and in all the movies, the convict-guy acted as though the outside world didn’t exist.  It sounds funny now, but when you’re twenty-one and have never been to prison, you cling to whatever works for you, and that worked for me.

I took a deep breath, lifted my head a little higher and walked to the cell that would be my new home.  I was expecting to hear all kinds of prison noises.  You know, the names and calls that always seem to happen on television when the new guy gets to prison.  To my surprise (and relief), there was none of that.

I arrived at my cell, and as I was watching the key being put into the lock it all seemed to be happening in slow motion…  the door sliding open… my bedroll being placed on the bunk… the door sliding shut…  and the worst sound of all… the door being locked behind me. 

ABOUT THE WRITER.  I never stop being touched by the writing we share here. Tony Enis is our second place contest winner for the last contest of 2021. Sometimes there is grace found in the darkest of places and Tony captured the grace in the silence of those around him. He has only shared his work with us once before. I really hope he continues to work with us. Tony Enis has been incarcerated for over thirty-four years, and maintains his innocence. He can be contacted at:

Anthony Enis #N82931
P.O. Box 1000
Menard, IL 02259