The Prisoner

The Prisoner

He sat in the prison van staring outside, watching the life, which he
was leaving by. He steals a glance outside the window, watching people
as they went on with their daily life. He could see them, feel the
vibrant atmosphere of the streets to them he was nonexistent. Unable to
sustain the tears any longer he sat down again and buried his head into
his palms, the weight of his life outweighing his palms. The two guards
paid no attention to his melancholy tears, as they fulfilled their
duties, for them it was a job that they did everyday. They left their
lives at home and came to work wearing a mask. A masquerade, an
imposture, which gave them the key to enter a different realm.

As for the gentleman who sat at the back of the prison van lamenting
over the ghost of his former self, to the prison guards he was just
another number. For reasons beyond explanation we will only refer to
the gentleman by his prison number DH2726. The charges against him are
not worth mentioning, to us, he is only charged with negligence, to the
flow of his own emotions. For when he was a free man he imprisoned his
emotions, which now taunts him like tales from the crypt.

He stood up again to have a peep at the life, which was now slipping
through his fingers. The van turned sharply by a familiar street and
the prisoner's heart taunted with a suppressed beat. He wished he could
tender his offended heart, but his injured heart had no trust in its
keeper like a woman scorned. Silently pleading with his heart to have
mercy on its keeper. He drifted of to sleep like fetus, as the van
rocked side to side trying it's best not to hit the pavement in the
streets of London.

The moving van on its voyage to the unknown destination rocked the
prisoner's imprisoned memory back to his childhood. Where he sat
between his mother and father, as the driver drove them to his boarding
school somewhere in the mountains in Ghana. They drove pass a big round
about, which had a statue of a great man, he can recall his mother
saying something to him about this great man. She said he should always
think of this great man on Ghana Independence's Day. Her voice was so
soft and soothing. Her breath eloquently soothed his face as he enjoyed
the comfort of her lap during the journey. He made a silent promise to
himself that when grew up he wanted to become a great man so he could
have his statue near a round about, so that everyone who drove around
it could admire him.

The drive to the school was nerve-racking, he wanted to plead with his
parents not to leave him there by himself. He would be a good boy if
they made him stay at home with them. He would even help the houseboy
with the washing of the car. He tried to voice out these feelings to
his impatient father, but the unspoken words in no doubt would have
fallen on deaf ears. Out of fear and anxiety he fell asleep on his
mother's lap, as she stroked his hair. In his sleep he dreamt that his
parents had died in a car crash and he was left with his mother's evil
sister to care for him.

He was awaken to the calming and soothing voice of his mother, as she
reassured him that it was okay,, it did not matter that he had
forgotten and wetted himself. Disappointed in himself for being a baby
he waved good-bye to his parents as the headmistress ushered him to the
school pleased with the fat tip that his father had pressed into her
fat palms.

An abrupt stop jerked the prisoner to the present. He stood up and he
realized that van had reached its destination. He straightened his
wrinkled suit silently wishing that it would still fit his frame when
his sentence is complete whenever that will be. He looked down to the
front of his trousers and realized that he dream that he had had
aroused a familiar nerve in his manhood.