Murder And Treason: Media Circus
New arrival Lawless, Sterga (#389734834) was attacked by Riverson, Hellen (#78876980); a.k.a “One-Eyed” Hellen. Lawless was rushed to the infirmary after clearing the grounds. Injuries include crushed skull, three broken ribs, compound fractures in both legs, left arm shattered, left hand broken, several missing teeth, broken jaw, collapsed right lung, and various internal injuries. Lawless is in serious condition, not expecting to survive.
OC spray and hoses were deployed to break up the fight. Three of Riverson’s people were taken and released for minor injuries. Four of the inmates, including Riverson, were placed in solitary confinement to be released after one week. No officers were injured in the process.
This is the second time Riverson and her gang has attacked new arrivals this month. Recommend placing in solitary until her sentence is carried out. Recommend denying her appeal. Inmate is violent and unstable, killing or maiming thirty-two prisoners since arriving. Rehabilitation is unlikely.
It has been three months since I arrived. I would have written sooner, but I was “initiated” within an hour of my arrival. The beating was so severe that no one believed in my survival. I have gained a metal plate in my head as well. Damn my brittle bones. Some head trauma, but nothing permanent. And many scars. At least I’m safe in the infirmary until next month when I return to the general populous. Prison is no place for a lady.
I apologize for my terrible handwriting, Diary. My left hand is still sore and despite practice, it is taxing to use. I’ve gotten used to using my right hand for many things, but writing with it is far worse than this mess. The pain I am in would cripple a lesser person and it does a good job at nearly doing so to me. Medication barely works, but even the minor relief is welcome.
Physical therapy to regain use of my legs started yesterday. It is exhausting to perform such rigorous exercise after lying in bed for so long. But the sooner I am well, the sooner I can prepare for my escape. This place is already a nightmare. Never have I been in such fear for my life. I need to focus on the task at hand and not give into my fears.
The only good thing I can say is that the uniforms are far superior to the travesty that is the orange jumpsuit. These are a classic black and white stripped pattern, which is at least comprised of neutrals. I suppose there is no fear of my escape, so a glowing uniform is not needed.
Therapy is going well and I can almost walk without the cane. Sadly, I cannot take it with me once I reintegrate. I’ve started lifting weights to build as much muscle as I can before being thrown to the savages. One of the inmates also in therapy has taken pity on me and is teaching some self-defense. I don’t think she expects it to do much good, but I must do all that I can to prevent a return trip to the infirmary. It is impossible to work my escape being bed bound.
My appeal was rejected and it was the only one I was allowed. That means I have less than a year before my sentence is carried out. It infuriates me that it was done while I was incapacitated. I had no opportunity to reply. Worthless excuse for a public defender. He will be the first one I “chat” with once I leave this hellish place.
I’ve already wasted so much time being incapacitated. Damn that wench and her filthy peons. I’ll have to take her out so that I may plot in peace. Well, I hope I can do so. She is in far better shape than I am and has more knowledge of the prison that I do. I must be very careful where I walk, lest I end up alone with no guards to help me. Not that they try very hard. I nearly died the first time I needed their aid.
I am not looking forward to next week.
Hellen sent one of her goons to attack me in the infirmary. The ruffian broke two of my ribs and added a few more scars, which delayed my release by several more weeks. Dammit! I cannot afford these delays in plotting my escape! I’m coming exceedingly close to my six month point and I’ve accomplished naught. There are a few useful bits of information that I have gleaned while here, but it is no substitute for what I could do in the general populace. As much as it frightens me to be with the savages, that is where I can properly plot.
I suppose I should consider this an opportunity to hone my physical strengths. Working out with broken ribs is very painful, so I must be careful. My endurance is lacking as well. I do need more work before I can integrate and survive, but patience is not my strong point. Sadly, the woman teaching me self-defense has left.
One more day and I would have been out of the infirmary.
Well, I wasn’t attacked on my first day with the savages. Some of them were surprised to see me alive. Tomorrow will be different, I’m sure. Hellen has been toying with me during the entire time I’ve been in this festering hole. I don’t understand why she has taken such an interest in me. Clearly, I am no physical threat and I failed as a villain with my family business completely dismantled. I barely have six months to live.
My cellmate has not made any advances at me either. I can only hope that it stays so. She doesn’t seem interested in my presence. However, she did inform me that she believes Hellen has never failed to kill any of the new initiates that she and her goons have attacked. I find myself in a position where my continued life is a reminder of her failures. She asked that I kindly not bleed all over the cell the next time Hellen attacks and to “please not die here” since she does not want to be moved.
I must survive until I can make my escape.
One Year To Live: The Plan To Escape