I felt strangely disconnected as the guards, all women proceeded to strip us of our clothes, hose us down and cover us in flea powder. Darlene lost her hair as they hacked at it, to show how brutal they were. We were given a pair of thongs each and loose linen pants with a baggy cotton top in a pale greyish-blue colour. We stepped out into the yard. A sea of women, we were pale outcasts, among the dark skinned majority.
We learnt how to survive in there. Everyday, losing hope of getting out. A couple of weeks went by and I learnt to listen to people, find out how to bargain for things, and learnt of a man who might be able to help us. And so it came to be that we met Hank.
He was an American Lawyer, working in Thailand. He was the only person who we had any chance with. There was only one problem ... we had been framed.
Found in possession of 3 tins of heroin, which they claimed was 6, the only connection for blame was an underground drug network fuelled by the government. They staged these arrests to make it seem like the majority of drugs were imported by westerners, to keep the police off their tales. But we had no idea who could have framed us, and no proof or reasonable doubt to show it wasn't us.
But the worst part, something I had to forgive her for. Darlene had signed our lives away. She signed it was 6, she signed it was mainly me and she signed us to life in this shit hole of a place!
Over the weeks we got our appeal. Hank laid out all the facts, that there was no way 6 tins could fit in my bag. That we apparently gave our bags up to someone dressed as a hotel staff member for transport before we left. That we had no previous records, and we didn't get a fair trial because there was no interpreter present. But for all that he argued, hope was fading. We had no solid proof. And once again the crack of the judges' hammer, rang in my ears. Tears poured from my eyes and we were sent back.
'It's not the last hope. We still have another chance' he told us. But I was not sure I believed him.
Darlene cried that night, her head wresting in my lap. Maybe I could get us out. Maybe it was time to try and talk to her.