HOME | DD

Description

The prison yard was a stark contrast to the bustling streets of the city Sally had known so well. Chain link fences enclosed the space, a tangible reminder of her confinement. Beyond those fences, the vast expanse of green fields stretched out, a beautiful, open vista of rolling countryside that lay just beyond her reach.

Sally stood amidst a group of other inmates, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the fields gradually gave way to hills and then to mountains, standing sublime against the blue cloudless sky.

The air here was cleaner than in the city, carrying with it a faint scent of nature and freedom. Her thoughts drifted to times long past, to moments she had spent outdoors—hikes in those mountains with Laura and their children, rare escapes from the demands of her busy political life.

A wistful smile played on Sally's lips as she remembered those days, the crunch of leaves underfoot, the laughter of the children as they explored the world around them. In those moments, the weight of her responsibilities had lifted, replaced by a sense of wonder and connection with nature. It was a life she had cherished, but one that now seemed like a distant dream.

As she stood in the prison yard, Sally couldn't help but wonder about the future. The trial loomed over her, a gnawing feeling gripping her heart at the thought of the potential decades she might spend behind bars. The fields beyond the fence, by contrast, represented a freedom she longed for, a return to a life she had taken for granted.

She sighed, her gaze shifting to the mountains in the distance. Would she ever have the chance to climb those peaks again? Would her body still be capable, or would the passage of time take its toll?

A heavy thought settled in her mind—would her children want to see her when she was finally released? The spectre of their disappointment and anger haunted her thoughts. She had been their role model, their protector, and now her mistakes threatened to cast a permanent shadow over their lives.

As the other inmates chatted and moved about the yard, Sally remained lost in her thoughts, but her attention was drawn to a small creature, a Red Squirrel, racing across the outer courtyard, pursued by a black cat. As Sally watched the squirrel dashed for the fence, leapt several feet in the air and scrambled over before dashing off into the field to safety.

As Sally gazed after the creature, it's tail rapidly disappearing into the fields beyond the prison yard's chain link fences, a tempting thought crossed her mind—a thought she knew was dangerous, yet alluring in its desperation. The idea of escaping, of breaking free from the confines of the prison, held a certain allure. The certainty of wasting her remaining youth behind bars weighed heavily on her, and the prospect of freedom, even if it meant being on the run, tugged at her thoughts.

Her heart raced as she considered the possibilities. The fields seemed to stretch endlessly, beckoning her to make a break for it, to reclaim the life she had lost. She imagined herself scaling the fences, running through those green expanses, and disappearing into the wilderness beyond. The fantasy was intoxicating...

A voice from behind brought her back to the present. "Hey, Sally, you okay?"

Sally turned to see her cellmate, Maria, looking at her with a mix of concern and understanding. Sally managed a faint smile, appreciating the gesture of empathy.

"Yeah, Maria," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of melancholy. "Just...thinking about things."

Maria follow Sally's gaze as it returned the fields beyond the fence. There was a faint smile on Sally's lips and a dangerous look of determination growing in her eyes.

Maria shook her head.

"Don't think I haven't thought about it too" she said, quietly.

Sally turned back to face Maria, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in her gaze.

Maria offered a knowing smile. "But you know what? I want to walk those hills with my family again someday, without looking over my shoulder. I want my kids to see me free once again, not as some fugitive on the run or worse, never getting to see them again."

Sally held Maria's gaze for a moment, then looked away again in frustration. Her pleasant fantasy of running away shattering rapidly before her eyes.

She knew Maria was right. Escaping would come at a price—leaving her family, her identity, her entire life behind. The thought of never seeing Laura again, of being estranged from her children, was a heavy burden to bear. And the more she contemplated the idea, the more she realised that the allure of escape was fleeting, overshadowed by the harsh truths that accompanied it.

As she watched the prison guards move about and the other inmates engage in their daily routines, her heartache deepened. The sense of isolation and desperation that had driven her to consider escaping was still there, but she understood that running away wouldn't truly solve her problems. It would merely exchange one set of challenges for another.

Sally let out a heavy sigh, her gaze returning to the fields beyond the fences. Yes, the temptation remained, but it was tempered by the realisation that she had responsibilities she couldn't abandon. She had a family, a life, and a future that were intertwined with the choices she had made. Running away might offer a momentary taste of freedom, but it wouldn't erase the past or ensure a better future. And ultimately, she was more than likely just going to end up back here with an even longer sentence.

"Fuck" she said empathically, and felt oddly better for it.

Maria's mouth curled sympathetically and she nodded, "We all have those days. Just remember, you've got to keep looking ahead. Life can surprise you, even in here."

Sally looked into Maria's eyes and smiled with resignation "yes, I suppose...thanks, Maria"

"Anytime" said Maria brightly, as the guards began to call the prisoners back from the yard, and the light of the afternoon sun began to fade over the walls of HMP Rosewood Hall, marking the end of the sixth day of Sally's possibly long, or possibly short incarceration.

Description

The prison yard was a stark contrast to the bustling streets of the city Sally had known so well. Chain link fences enclosed the space, a tangible reminder of her confinement. Beyond those fences, the vast expanse of green fields stretched out, a beautiful, open vista of rolling countryside that lay just beyond her reach.

Sally stood amidst a group of other inmates, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the fields gradually gave way to hills and then to mountains, standing sublime against the blue cloudless sky.

The air here was cleaner than in the city, carrying with it a faint scent of nature and freedom. Her thoughts drifted to times long past, to moments she had spent outdoors—hikes in those mountains with Laura and their children, rare escapes from the demands of her busy political life.

A wistful smile played on Sally's lips as she remembered those days, the crunch of leaves underfoot, the laughter of the children as they explored the world around them. In those moments, the weight of her responsibilities had lifted, replaced by a sense of wonder and connection with nature. It was a life she had cherished, but one that now seemed like a distant dream.

As she stood in the prison yard, Sally couldn't help but wonder about the future. The trial loomed over her, a gnawing feeling gripping her heart at the thought of the potential decades she might spend behind bars. The fields beyond the fence, by contrast, represented a freedom she longed for, a return to a life she had taken for granted.

She sighed, her gaze shifting to the mountains in the distance. Would she ever have the chance to climb those peaks again? Would her body still be capable, or would the passage of time take its toll?

A heavy thought settled in her mind—would her children want to see her when she was finally released? The spectre of their disappointment and anger haunted her thoughts. She had been their role model, their protector, and now her mistakes threatened to cast a permanent shadow over their lives.

As the other inmates chatted and moved about the yard, Sally remained lost in her thoughts, but her attention was drawn to a small creature, a Red Squirrel, racing across the outer courtyard, pursued by a black cat. As Sally watched the squirrel dashed for the fence, leapt several feet in the air and scrambled over before dashing off into the field to safety.

As Sally gazed after the creature, it's tail rapidly disappearing into the fields beyond the prison yard's chain link fences, a tempting thought crossed her mind—a thought she knew was dangerous, yet alluring in its desperation. The idea of escaping, of breaking free from the confines of the prison, held a certain allure. The certainty of wasting her remaining youth behind bars weighed heavily on her, and the prospect of freedom, even if it meant being on the run, tugged at her thoughts.

Her heart raced as she considered the possibilities. The fields seemed to stretch endlessly, beckoning her to make a break for it, to reclaim the life she had lost. She imagined herself scaling the fences, running through those green expanses, and disappearing into the wilderness beyond. The fantasy was intoxicating...

A voice from behind brought her back to the present. "Hey, Sally, you okay?"

Sally turned to see her cellmate, Maria, looking at her with a mix of concern and understanding. Sally managed a faint smile, appreciating the gesture of empathy.

"Yeah, Maria," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of melancholy. "Just...thinking about things."

Maria follow Sally's gaze as it returned the fields beyond the fence. There was a faint smile on Sally's lips and a dangerous look of determination growing in her eyes.

Maria shook her head.

"Don't think I haven't thought about it too" she said, quietly.

Sally turned back to face Maria, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in her gaze.

Maria offered a knowing smile. "But you know what? I want to walk those hills with my family again someday, without looking over my shoulder. I want my kids to see me free once again, not as some fugitive on the run or worse, never getting to see them again."

Sally held Maria's gaze for a moment, then looked away again in frustration. Her pleasant fantasy of running away shattering rapidly before her eyes.

She knew Maria was right. Escaping would come at a price—leaving her family, her identity, her entire life behind. The thought of never seeing Laura again, of being estranged from her children, was a heavy burden to bear. And the more she contemplated the idea, the more she realised that the allure of escape was fleeting, overshadowed by the harsh truths that accompanied it.

As she watched the prison guards move about and the other inmates engage in their daily routines, her heartache deepened. The sense of isolation and desperation that had driven her to consider escaping was still there, but she understood that running away wouldn't truly solve her problems. It would merely exchange one set of challenges for another.

Sally let out a heavy sigh, her gaze returning to the fields beyond the fences. Yes, the temptation remained, but it was tempered by the realisation that she had responsibilities she couldn't abandon. She had a family, a life, and a future that were intertwined with the choices she had made. Running away might offer a momentary taste of freedom, but it wouldn't erase the past or ensure a better future. And ultimately, she was more than likely just going to end up back here with an even longer sentence.

"Fuck" she said empathically, and felt oddly better for it.

Maria's mouth curled sympathetically and she nodded, "We all have those days. Just remember, you've got to keep looking ahead. Life can surprise you, even in here."

Sally looked into Maria's eyes and smiled with resignation "yes, I suppose...thanks, Maria"

"Anytime" said Maria brightly, as the guards began to call the prisoners back from the yard, and the light of the afternoon sun began to fade over the walls of HMP Rosewood Hall, marking the end of the sixth day of Sally's possibly long, or possibly short incarceration.