This is based off of a dream I had that completely freaked me out...because the dream was told in first person, making me Scofield. In this, though, Scofield will just be in first person, and the names of real people in my life will be changed to the character's names that they were based off of. I hope you enjoy this very strange poem I have to offer!

The river flows steadily down into a dam

I gaze, longing for freedom.

The Fox River seeps into my mind.

I am in a new prison,

Again

Mahone stands in a corner, wondering where he'll get his next fix

And I see kids

All ages

Being put to work as slaves for the horrid guards.

Those kids

Huddle together against the harsh Illinois cold

No shoes

No sweaters

In this outdoor prison

I want to break out more than anything

But there is no possible way of escape.

Lechero is here

Hunting for little kids to torture

I walk and stare at every nook and cranny

For a weakness I can't find

Lechero strolls up to me

Takes my shoes

Says " You won't need these,"

And the Chicago wind blows in from the west

Alone, I stare so hard at the electrified fence

Guarding me from the icy river

Wanting to jump

Escape

"Breakout!"

Prisoner children race to the fences, getting a glimpse of the eight escapees running toward the road

They cheer them on

Except one

Who tells me

"They do this every week...foolish kids thinking they can be like Michael Scofield and escape from anything,"

A pit forms in my stomach

As a blond guard points her gun at the fleeing kids.

I want to scream

But then the shots ring out as their bodies crumple into

Children heeps

Like robots, the rest of the prisoners go back to pointless busy work

I shake uncontrollably

As a prisoner named Whistler roams in my mind

He's here

Wanting more

Wanting another escape

But how can I give it when countless mothers lose their own children?

How much more suffering can I stand?

Whistler walks up to me, once again in the rags of prisoner's clothes

" When are we doing it?"

" Tonight," I say. " After the prisoner parade."

" You know what you need to do?"

" Yes."

" Well then do it."

I am in a prisoner marching band

Playing an instrument that only makes unintelligible shrieks

Twisting in and out of formation

The kids yell at us to stay in line or else

"The guards will kill ya."

Bleachers pop out of the sky, showing crazy people wearing threads of red and black

How long can this go on?

If only I had more time...

Darkness

I slip on a roof of a house

Somehow

I am gone from the banks of the Fox River

I stop to catch ragged breaths

As I gaze around

Whistler is gone

And I stand where my old grandparents live

The ones who didn't care enough

To stop the abuse

And stayed in their suburban house

Barely lit with the morning's glow

The house invites me in

Come

We have cookies

Don't be afraid

I scramble down the side of the house

Delirious

And insane

While sirens float in and out of consciousness

Wary of passerby

I hide in the shadows

Thick as a blanket

I hear the clicking of a typewriter

To find it is a fax machine sitting on the porch steps

Is this some sort of joke?

Am I dreaming?

Or is that really a message from Whistler...

Quickly I run

Sorry we lost contact

Meet me at the airport

I have tickets

All you need to do is

A car slowly drives by

Gazing at me

I dive into the shrubs of cover

While tearing off the first part of the fax

Heart beating so fast that it could make a song

But nothing is wrong

The sirens have ceased

For now

I rip the other part of the message from the machine...

Ride

I'm sure we'll be happy together

Give me a chance

It's our hiding place

Just you and me

Forever

Whistler

My eyes light with anger

Wasn't he the one who threatened me to break out

And now he wants to be friends?

A tear runs down my face

But what if he isn't lying

And wants to love me, when others can't?

When can I stop running

Stop looking behind me at every noise I hear

Is there an answer?

I walk into that house

Where my grandparents reside

As I open the door

Sunlight streams into an old fashioned kitchen

Beads of morning warming my heart

There they are

Granpa, reading the morning paper

And Granma, laughing at his poor jokes

My heart leaps as I spy Linc eating a bowl of cereal, calm as the wind before a storm

How did he know?

But the air turns cold

As I step into the room where I don't belong

Always the same old pretty, as T-Bag would say

I stir things up

Granpa stares in shock

His paper hanging off the table ready to fall

Linc looks relieved

But he isn't making a move

What has happened?

Why does he stare at me like that

Not talking

Not breathing

I glance at the T.V showing my picture

Again

Whistler's picture fading into the background

As I gulp down terror

Granma bites her lip

Anxious

I wonder if this was a good place to go

I wonder if they will turn me in

But Granma walks up to me

And holds me

While I sob

Into her shoulder

Finally letting go all the sorrow that I had to

Bury

So I could run again

She comforts me

But as I see the sun rise, my panic has caught up to me

And I tear out of her arms

" I have to go," I say

The air fills with my granma's evil laugh

"Go where? You are safe here, and only here."

Speechless, I glance at her evil face

Insane

I guess it runs in the family

I knew I couldn't stay

No matter how much I wanted

A home

I couldn't

"This is the first place they'd look!" I scream. " Don't you see? I need to hide...somewhere else..."

"And where'd that be, huh?" Granma yells. " You were pathetic at hiding then, and you still are now."

I was running

From him

Grabbed my leg

Hurled me to the ground

"I've got you, little Michael," he whispered in my ear

Alchohol breath in my mind

Granpa dug his hands into my flesh

Ripping out whatever I loved

And Granma screamed " You loser! Why can't you hide like a normal kid?

I cried like a baby, knowing that one day I would die like this

In pain

Forever

And from that day on

I could never love

" Not even Sara," I whispered

Granma cackled. " Not even your precious Sara can save you this time Michael."

I slumped against the wall. " Maybe I could go to a hotel..."

"A trap, of course," she laughs

"And so is this...this is a trap if I ever saw a bigger one...or maybe the woods across the street..."

"A horrible idea! You'll be all alone in that place..."

I gasp for air

It seems harder to breath these days

"But you left me all alone when you took me to Social Services, and when I went to Fox River you didn't even care! And Sona..."

I hold back ferocious tears

"And now you won't let me go because I'll be alone? Times have changed; you can't make up for what you did to me!"

And then I remember

Meet me at the airport

Just you and me

Forever

" Whistler has tickets...for a plane...We can escape for good."

Granma flips with rage

Emotional

Can't tell if she's mad

Or weeping in distress

" But you won't be safe!"

I grasp her hand, calming the rush of air between us

"But I'll be alive."

Granma silently sobs, nodding reluctantly.

"You don't know what it's like Granma...to live in constant fear of losing your life. Let me go; I can do better out there than here."

A flash of blue and red lights flickers in my eye

Sirens fill the air

Whining

Warning

Running

Granma looks out the window, into the rising sun

Linc pleads with me silently

Leave. Now. Just go.

I give the faintest nod to Linc

As the sirens grow louder

More omnious

Granma

Tears streaming down her face

Whispers the word we've all come to fear

That haunts us

No matter where we go

It follows

A stalker mumbling in the distance

"Run."