(The horror stories continue throughout October)
Marvin took his blood pressure and other assorted cocktails of medication with a tall glass of Milk (that one being against the Doctor’s orders) before he reclined in his favorite armchair in front of Antiques Roadshow. It was 5 pm and he had already eaten his tea. He was consuming his meals earlier and earlier as his bedtime drew closer in the night. Sometimes he fell asleep in the chair due to the comfort it provided. Other times he could muster the walk to his bedroom for a proper forty winks. On this afternoon, he did just that as the sun was setting. He saw the bedside display clock read out seven thirty-three as he lay his weary head down on his unwashed pillow - another task he should get to in the morning. He hadn’t realized two hours had passed already, he had no memory of the television program. He must have begun his dose early. His hip swelled with pain as his body settled as it usually did, it would take some time for the pain meds to kick in. He sat there briefly wondering if he did indeed take the pain meds as a fog swelled over his mind and consumed his conscious thought.
He woke up in a cold room on a hard mattress. Gone were his pillow and blankets. He was annoyed, they must have fallen off in the middle of the night. He leaned forward to pick them up but as he looked over the side of the bed, he was startled to see that he was about six feet higher than expected. He was lying on a steel-framed bunk bed. There was another body asleep beneath him. He drew in a sharp breath of panic. He shifted his body up and expected the pain in his hip to kick in when, to his surprise, it did not. Nothing hurt. A situation he had not experienced in as long as he could remember. It was early dawn and the sun was peaking into the cold, solid concrete room. He looked around and felt his pulse increase with fear. This was not his room.
This was not his house.
Echoes of voices, yells, screams and taunts bounced around the walls beyond the room where he was trapped.
The need to relieve himself was strong.
He rose out of bed to get a better look at his surroundings.
He motioned to the front door and tugged on the handle of the solid steel door. It was locked and rattled as he pulled on it. He panicked again, for he needed to visit the toilet with urgency. He scanned the room and noticed a stainless steel bowl in the corner of the cell.
The fog of sleep vanished as his mind grasped a new reality.
This was a jail cell. He was in prison.
He looked down at his attire - all orange. His arms were covered in dark black patterns. He felt them expecting to feel a strange fabric but the sensation of skin was unmistakable. These were tattoos.
He searched for a mirror but none was available. He began to understand the prospect that he may not be inside his own body. He felt younger, more agile, and more capable of fear. He walked over to the bed where he had been lying asleep.
There on the thin mattress was a roll of toilet paper with symbols and words written in a language he did not understand. The phrases were written in blood. He looked beneath his bunk at the person asleep - he supposed it was his cellmate. There were incisions on his arms where blood had been drawn from. Marvin supposed this was the source of the ink that was used to create the symbols and letters. He looked it over once more. Memories shot into his mind from a life he did not live. He used these memories to paint a picture of his circumstances. Whoever had inhabited this body before Marvin was saying some sort of prayer - reciting a chant that had been scribbled down on the paper and written in the cellmate's blood.
The door to the cell hatched open with a loud bang. Marvin turned to see who was attempting to gain access.
As the steel frame swung open, three guards walked in.
“Andre, this is it. Time to face the music,” one said as he handed Marvin a sharpened toothbrush.
“Make it fast for your sake. The animal didn’t get that name by accident. Don’t let him get the upper hand,” the guard said as all three of them proceeded behind Marvin and indicated for him to exit the cell.
Marvin stepped out of the cell door and into the open wing that was devoid of all prisoners except one. A mountain of a man stood at the far end with a shiv in his hand. He had a Cheshire grin and was flanked by three prison officers of his own.
“Warden gets in at seven am gentlemen. The time now is four. We expect this feud to be over by four fifteen. If two of you are standing at that time, we will put down the loser ourselves. Now… BEGIN!”
The guard shoved Marvin in the direction of the enormous man who came strolling forward.
Marvin looked up and down the cell doors that lined the unit. Their letterbox latches were all down and the eyes of the other inmates were watching intently, yelling as if spectators in a gladiatorial arena.
The Animal as he was known to the guards was fast approaching. Marvin gripped the shiv tight and closed his eyes as he prepared to swing at the approaching figure.
Andre woke in a bed more rickety than he was used to.
He pulled back the knitted blankets that lined his body and threw them onto the floor. He attempted to swing out of bed but was met with an unexpected pain that jolted from his hips and proceeded up his body. His head swelled with a throbbing migraine. He felt cold even though the hot sun was beaming through the window. He had an unshakable urge to urinate that he attempted to do right there in the bed to gain some relief, only he couldn’t get the liquid out at all. This too caused him agony. He crawled out of the bed and out of the room. He looked left and right down the hall of this unknown house to where he sensed a bathroom could be. He made it to the cold tiles and pulled himself up the fifties veneer of a sink. He strained as he straightened himself to face the mirror.
He had aged at least forty years.
But he was alive and safe.
For now.
He looked out the window of the public housing estate that was to be his new home and could see the edge of the fence that lined the supermax prison. His old cell was about a hundred and fifty meters beyond the barbed wire. Somewhere in the complex, the man who once lived in this housing complex, whom Andre had now discovered was once in his late seventies, was not in a one-on-one fight to the death with a man who would make his end. A horrible way to go. Andre looked once more into the mirror at his new face. The man looked like he would have been a lovely old chap. Such a sad way to go, Andre thought to himself. Not everyone is as lucky.
He eased his deteriorating body down onto the cold toilet seat and waited until he was able to relieve himself. He sat there and thought about plans to perform the ritual once more and swap into a more agile body. He wondered who would be available nearby to accommodate his needs.