Prologue
Once again I pulled down the sleeves of my shirt to cover my forearms. What was once my only means of escape was now nothing but a mass of scars and memories. After one last breath and a shove from the CO, I stepped out of the doors and into the light. As the CO cuffed my hands, I stared at the sign over the place I had called home for several months. The word Asylum stared down at me.
Most people find the "Wack Shack" to be a scary place. For me, however, I find solace there. The word asylum means sanctuary. The asylum has kept me safe, not only from the other inmates, but from myself as well.
I'm not all right. If I were, I wouldn't be in here. But that's okay. I'll cope with it for now. Someday I'll be out of here, one way or another.
Back into my cell now, my familiar bunk, with my old cellmate Dave, soon to be released on parole. Then someone else will replace him, another new guy, probably someone young and naïve. But none are younger than me.
