Date: Wed, 28 May 2003 01:56:03 EDT
From: ErastesTouch@aol.com
Subject: Point of View - chapter 14

Legal Notice:

The following story may contain descriptions of graphic sexual acts.  These
acts may be between boys or between a man and a boy.  The story is a work
of fiction and has no basis in reality.

The author, or his designee, retains copyright to this story.  There may be
no reproducing or distribution of this story without expressed written
consent.

I wish to extend my thank you to Ed for his editorial assistance with this
chapter.

		*    *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Point of View - by Erastes                        Copyright 2003 by Erastes
Chapter 14 - The sentence.                                    February 2003

While I was biding my time for the sentencing date to arrive, I received a
visit from the probation officer who had been assigned to prepare the
pre-sentencing investigation report on me.  He asked me numerous questions,
and probed various events in my life, from childhood until the present.  I
think he was more intrusive than a psychiatrist would have been, but he
lacked any tact.  I answered all of his questions and then he left, not
giving me any indication of what he was thinking or what he might suggest
to the judge.  However, I wasn't too concerned about this, seeing my lawyer
had previously told me he thought the judge would go along with the D.A.'s
sentencing recommendation.

Later that night, Bruno called me to see how I thought things went.  After
I told him what I thought, he told me he'd get a copy of the report a day
or two before we went back before the judge, so we'd have some idea whether
his comments might sway the judge.  Bruno didn't see anything that might be
egregious enough to do that, but he wanted to see what this guy had to say,
before we went to the sentencing hearing.  Now we just had to wait.

The day before the hearing was to be held, Bruno called me at home.  "Bob,
I don't think you'll have to worry.  That guy didn't say anything in his
report that might cause the judge to question the D.A.'s recommendation, so
I think you'll be fine.  Just dress in a pair of slacks and a dress shirt
tomorrow, and don't carry much with you.  Take some money, because you can
use that to buy things from the jail store, but not much else.  You can
also pack a paper bag with several changes of underwear, socks, a writing
pad, and a couple of pens.  They'll let you bring those things in with you,
and then they'll provide the rest.  I'll also drive up and pick you up in
the morning, so you can leave your vehicle in your garage.  Don't forget to
leave your keys home too.  Okay?"

"Yes, Bruno, and thanks again."

That night wasn't as bad as I suspected it might be, as I had resigned
myself to my fate and merely made sure things were secured and taken care
of until I got back.  I also packed the small paper bag full of the things
Bruno had told me I'd be able to bring with me.  I was also going to have
my other attorney friend pick up Boo-Boo and drop him off at Jared's house,
and leave enough money to cover the food while I was away.  I considered
having him give them a note from me too, but seeing I wasn't sure how this
would be received, I didn't do it.  I didn't think Sherry would be upset
about getting the dog, and I thought it might also be good for the boys.
It might distract them from what had happened, and maybe make this parting
less painful.  I wasn't sure, but I did hope.  I also told the lawyer that
if they didn't want to keep the pup, he could place him in a kennel and I'd
take him back when I got out.  He could use the money in my accounts to pay
for this while I was gone.  I didn't know what else to do with the puppy if
they didn't want to keep it, as it was Jared's birthday present from me.

The next morning I was up early, showered, dressed, and ate breakfast.
Bruno was picking me up at 10:30, and we were scheduled to be in court by
11:00.  Bruno had already looked over what I was going to say today, as I
had emailed it to him several days ago, and he had sent it back with his
suggestions.  I made the changes and emailed the final copy back to him,
which he quickly okayed.  Now all I had to do was read it in court.

Bruno showed right on time to pick me up, and we drove to the courthouse.
Once more we had to dodge the bloodsuckers from the press on the way in.  I
don't understand how they can get so much enjoyment feeding off other
people's pain and suffering, and I find it hard to believe anyone needs
money so badly that they would stoop to doing that job.  But then again,
maybe it's just that I'm down on them right now, because they tended to
convict me in print before a jury ever had a chance to do so.  Besides,
I've seen them stick their mikes in people's faces, right after some
tragedy had just occurred, to ask them how they felt.  How in the hell do
you think they're going to feel?  I sometimes think they just lack common
sense in such matters.

Anyway, once we were in the courtroom, we took our place and waited for the
judge to enter.  It was only a few minutes more before the bailiff asked us
to rise, and the judge took his place behind the bench.  After arranging
some items in front of him, he began to speak.  "Mr. Cox's plea has been
entered and accepted, but an allocution was requested by the district
attorney's office, before his sentence would be finalized.  Mr. Cox, are
you ready to do this now?"

I rose and spoke very clearly.  "Yes, Your Honor."

"You may proceed then."

"I won't deny that I had sexual contact with said minor.  I know it was
wrong, and I apologize for what happened.  On several occasions I
participated in mutual masturbation or had oral sex with him, but there was
never any form of penetration.  This happened at my home, and I'm sorry I
let things get out of hand.  I hope that he, his brother, and his mother
will forgive me for what I did some day."  At that point I sat down, and
the judge addressed the assistant district attorney.

"Mr. Levitt, will that suffice?"

"Yes, Your Honor.  My office will accept his allocution."

"In that case, we'll move on to sentencing.  I have looked over the
pre-sentencing report, and I see that Mr.  Cox has no previous record and
no history of this kind of behavior.  Due to that fact, I am willing to
agree to the district attorney's sentencing recommendation of one year in
the county jail.  It is so ordered, and this case is now concluded.  Please
take Mr. Cox into custody, and then take him to be processed."  With the
rap of the judge's gavel, my freedom had ceased to exist, and I would be
led away to spend the next year in a small cage.

When the sheriff's deputy came over to put the handcuffs on me, Bruno
whispered in his ear, and I saw the deputy nod in response.  Now he led me
and followed Bruno through that front exit, the same one we had used the
last time we were in court, and we went down the back stairwell to the
basement.  As we went past the door leading to the first floor, I glanced
through the small glass window and saw the press surrounding the elevator
doors.  They thought I'd be taken to the first floor via the elevator, and
they waited to get their pictures and comments.  Won't they be pissed when
they discover we were able to bypass them?

>From there we took an underground route to the jail, rather than the usual
outdoor route the deputies generally followed.  As we entered the jail, I
was lead to a small reception area, which already contained two other guys.
I guess they were sentenced today as well, probably in other courts, or
they had just been arraigned and remanded to jail.  Now we all just sat
there, waiting to be processed in.

The first guy was fairly young, probably just barely twenty-one, if that,
but the other guy was a scruffy older dude, probably in his late forties or
early fifties.  None of us spoke, and we merely eyed each other, wondering
what the other had been accused or convicted of.  One at time we were led
away to be fingerprinted and to have new mug shots taken.  This time I
followed some of the advice I'd been given previously about the
fingerprinting process, uncertain if it would actually do any good.  When
this process was over, I was stripped searched, had everything but my
underwear taken from me, and I was given a bright orange jumpsuit to put
on, along with a pair slip on athletic shoes.  No belt or shoelaces were
allowed in jail, as it was felt those items could be used to commit suicide
or murder.

After that we were given our jailhouse bedding, which consisted of a
pillow, pillowcase, two sheets and a blanket.  Then we were escorted to the
cell to which we'd been assigned.  The younger guy was led to the same
cellblock as me, while the other guy was taken to a different location.
This cellblock had five cells, with a common area where we could be
together at various times.  The common area had two tables with benches,
all securely bolted to the floor, so nothing was capable of being used as a
weapon.  The cells were really more like small, closet sized rooms, with a
metal bed bolted to the wall.  The bed had a thin mattress on top of it,
and the rest of the area was filled by small desk, which could be used for
writing or reading, a stainless steel toilet, with no seat, and a small
stainless steel sink.  It wasn't as bad as I feared, but this was no luxury
hotel.

I quickly made up my bed, so I could lie on it, but soon the younger guy
came to my door.  "What are you in for?" he asked, surprising me with his
bluntness.  I later discovered this was a major topic of interest among
inmates, and a subject that I didn't particularly want to disclose to
others.  I'd heard how inmates have their own sense of right and wrong, and
sexual predators are considered worse than thieves and murderers, placing
them on the lowest rung of the crime ladder.  I'd find that ironic, if I
didn't find it so damned pathetic.

"For getting caught," was all I replied, and then I closed my eyes again.

"Is this your first time.I mean being in jail?" he continued.

"Yes.  How about you?" I asked, seeing he wasn't about to be put off that
easily.

"Yeah.  You scared?"  I could tell he was, without even asking.

"Not really, but I'm not fond of being here either."  He gave me a weak
smile.

"I'm scared shitless.  That other guy who was there when you came in, well
he told me that I'd end up somebody's bitch in this place.  He said someone
would get a piece of my ass before I got out of here."

"I'd suggest you keep your back to the wall then," I replied.  I wasn't
trying to be funny, but I wasn't really interested in having this
conversation either.

"I figured I needed friends I could trust, and I thought I could trust you.
I can, can't I?"

"Sure, kid," I told him.  "I promise I won't do anything like that to you.
Okay?"  He gave me another weak smile.

"You looked like a nice guy, and not like some of these other creeps, so I
figured I could trust you.  What did you do for a living?"  I eyed him,
wondering if I should be giving up any details about my life.  After a
minute or so, I concluded it would be safe, as he just needed some
reassurance.

"I'm a writer.  I write children's books."  His face brightened.

"Neat.  Anything I might have read?"

"Well, I've only been writing for a few years, so you were probably too old
to be interested in reading any of my early stories."

"Ah, okay.  By the way, my name's Darren."  He held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Darren, and I'm Bob."  We shook.

There's a deck of cards out on one of the tables.  Want to play something?"

"I think you'd better check and see who those cards belong to first.  You
wouldn't want to piss someone else off, by not asking permission to use
their things."

"Shit, I never thought of that.  Thanks for the warning."

"It's okay.  It may be my first time in, but I've seen documentaries about
prison life.  I know this might not technically be a prison, but I'm sure a
few of these guys have been in prison before, so the same mentality will
apply here too."

"Yeah, probably."  He still seemed very scared and nervous.

"Calm down, kid, or you'll have a heart attack before the night's over."
He gave me a puzzled look.

"That's not the kind of attack I'm worried about."  Now I got his drift.

"Look, kid.  We're locked in here most of the day.  From what I understand,
we get an hour of rec time each day, and there are two or three guards with
us at those times.  Other than that, there's just the five of us on this
block, and you know two of us will be sticking together.  After lights out,
we're locked in our cells, so there's no way anyone can get to you.  It
will be all right to sleep with your eyes closed tonight."

He exhaled slightly, and gave me another weak grin.  "Thanks, that does
make me feel a little better."

"Yes, this isn't as bad as prison, because the numbers are much smaller
here and these guys are in for lesser crimes.  It doesn't mean they won't
do anything, but most won't want to extend their stay or get sent to a
worse place.  The only ones you'll have to worry about are the guys who are
just here temporarily, until they get transferred to a state penitentiary."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind.  Thanks, Bob.  You've made me feel a whole
lot better."

I nodded in understanding, realizing how much more vulnerable he was than
I, and now I thought how cute he was, for a guy his age.  Now I quickly
pressed those thoughts from my mind, reminding myself that I wasn't going
to make no friends while I was in here and I was merely going to do my time
and get out.  Once this was over, I would suppress the memory of this year
from my mind, and try never to think about it again.  However, this kid
wasn't about to let up.

"Bob, would you mind if I spend most of my time with you?"

"Look, kid, I can't control what you do, but you might get the other
inmates talking and wondering what we're doing together, if you get my
drift."

"I don't care! I feel safer with you.  Okay?"

"Sure, kid, if that's what you want, but I'll probably be doing my own
thing most of the time."

"Like what?" he wondered.

"Like writing.  I might be locked up, but I can still continue my writing.
Maybe not on a laptop, like I'm used to, but I can write on tablets and
then type it out after I'm released."

"Yeah, I guess you can.  Okay, but I'll probably just sit and watch you
then, cuz I don't like the way that one guy looked at me."

"The other guy in the reception area?" I tried to clarify.

"Him and one of the guys in this block.  I saw him looking me over good
when we walked in.  I don't think I trust him either."

"Whatever.  Like I said, it's entirely up to you."

"Thanks."  That ended our current conversation, and I realized I had just
picked up a shadow, whether I wanted one or not.

Before long, lunch was served.  Five identical trays of food were passed
into our common area by one of the guards, assisted by a trusty.  A trusty
is a term used for an inmate who is given some freedom within the jail or
prison, in return for doing certain duties.  The trusty would work in the
kitchen, the laundry, or they would do general cleaning duties outside of
the individual cellblocks.  We each took a tray and went to sit at one of
the tables to eat.  Darren and I let the other guys go first, as I'd heard
some inmates are territorial when it came to where they sat and such, so we
watched two of the guys go to one table, while the third sat at the other.
Darren and I squeezed onto the same side of the table, across from the
single dude.

He didn't look as hard core as the other two, so we introduced ourselves.
Again the question came up as to what we were in for, and I gave the same
response, "For getting caught."  However, this is when I learned what
Darren was in for.  He was in for his part in a bar brawl.  It seems as
though he and two of his buddies got really drunk, and the bouncer went
over and asked them to leave.  When Darren and his buddies didn't move, the
bouncer attempted to forcibly throw them out.  That's when Darren grabbed a
beer bottle and broke it over the bouncer's head.  I guess the injury the
bouncer sustained put the guy in the hospital for a week or so, and got
Darren a year for assault.  At least now I knew we'd be in the whole time
together.

This other guy introduced himself as Fred, and explained he was in for
forgery.  He explained that he forged his girlfriend's name on a couple of
checks, and she pressed charges against him, after she discovered what he'd
done.  They both tried to pin me down again, about what I was in for, but I
just kept eating and didn't respond to their queries.

The noon meal consisted of a ham and cheese sandwich, potato chips, a
couple of carrot sticks, and some Jell-o.  We also got one of those cartons
of milk, like the ones the kids get in school.  It was an okay lunch, but
not all that filling, but it would have to do.  After they came back to
collect our lunch trays, a guard came up carrying the paper bag I had left
in Bruno's car.  It contained the things I felt I would need for my stay
here.

"Cox," the guard bellowed out.  "Your lawyer dropped this stuff off for
you.  Come get your shit and put it in your cell."  I went and took the
things from him, carried them in my cell, and placed the bag on the small
surface of the desk.  When I came out, the guard decided to fill us newbies
in on some of the rules.

"Okay, you two.  This is how things are run here.  Wake-up is at 6:00 a.m.
If you want to shave, razors will be brought through shortly after that,
and it is the only time shaving is allowed.  Breakfast is served around
7:00, lunch around noon, and dinner about 5:00.  You will be brought either
coffee or tea around 8:00, and lights out will be at 11:00 p.m. sharp.  Any
questions?"  Neither of us had any, so he continued with his
indoctrination.

"There is a TV in each cellblock, but it is controlled by the front desk.
The guard on duty will choose the shows you will be allowed to watch, or
any movies we may bring in for you to see.  You can watch it or not, but
that's the only option.  We DON'T take requests.  Got that?"  He gave us a
little snarl after he said this, and we both nodded that we understood.

"One more thing," he added.  "Twice a week we come by and take orders for
things you want to buy from the inmate store.  All of you have a little
money in your inmate accounts, and you purchases will be deducted from
that.  You're friends and relatives can add money to your accounts when
they visit, but only up to a total of $100, at any time.  You'll be getting
a list of what you can buy from there, and that will probably be dropped
off about dinnertime.  Any questions now?"  We both asked him some minor
clarifications about the inmate store, which he answered.  After filling us
in on these little tidbits of information, the guard departed, and we were
left to our own devices again.

I decided to go back to my cell and attempt to write.  I got out my pad and
a pen, but I didn't have the motivation or inspiration I needed to do this.
After about an hour of trying, I put the pen down and went over to my bunk.
I was just getting comfortable when I heard a guard call out.  "Rec time.
If you're interested in going, get in line."

I decided to give it a try, to see what they had to offer, so I went out
and got in line.  When Darren saw me lining up, he got in line behind me,
not wanting to be left alone in the cellblock.  The guard walked us down to
the outside rec area, which was just the center courtyard, located between
the four wings containing the various cellblocks.  Each wing had four
individual cellblocks in them, and all the inmates from each wing were
taken out for rec at the same time.  That way a maximum of twenty inmates
were in the yard at any one time.  Two groups were taken out in the
morning, one at 9:30 and the other at 10:45, and the rest got their time in
the afternoon, at 1:15 or 2:30.  The times were rotated by the week, so
each cellblock had a different time slot each week, so you didn't get stuck
going out in just the cooler or hotter parts of the day.

I looked around the area, to see what it was like.  There was razor wire
attached to poles that jutted out from the roof of each building, extending
over the outer edges of the open courtyard, to prevent anyone from trying
to escape.  There were two basketball hoops, located on opposite ends of
the courtyard, some bars that could be used for pull-ups, and an area where
the inmates could do isometric type exercises.  There was also a small
bleacher area, where you could just sit and watch, or talk, and the entire
area was covered by blacktop.

Darren and I decided to grab a basketball and just shoot some hoops, but a
few more inmates came over and wanted to have a game.  We agreed, chose up
sides, and began playing.  The game was going fairly well, and Darren and I
were on the same team.  We had been playing about fifteen or twenty
minutes, before some of the other inmates gathered around to watch us play.
That's when things began to fall apart.  After watching us for a bit, one
of the inmates shouted out, "Hey, I know that guy.  He's the baby-raper
whose picture was in the paper!"

Now the game came to a halt, as everyone wanted to have a chance to
identify this villain - me.  Now various inmates began to make comments and
spew vulgarities at me, but this only lasted for a few hate- filled
minutes.  That's when the attention shifted slightly, toward Darren.  "Hey,
cutie," one inmate teased.  "We noticed you and this guy are pretty
friendly.  Are you letting him have your booty?"  Now everyone roared with
laughter.

"Hey, if he ever gets tired of doing you," another offered, "I'd like some
of that."  To emphasize his point, he slapped Darren's butt.

"Damn, kid.  Meet me in the shower room and I'll show you what a real man
is like," another added.  Again, more laughter ensued, but I could tell
this attention was making Darren extremely uncomfortable.  Not only that,
but I knew from this point on he probably wouldn't be hanging around me any
longer.

Now I couldn't wait for rec hour to end, as everyone was taking his
opportunity to give me a cheap shot to the body every now and then, as we
continued to play our game.  I knew I couldn't stop playing or start
whining about what they were doing, so I stayed in the game, giving back a
few shots of my own.  I was glad to hear the whistle blow, to signal our
time was up.  We all got back in line, and we were led back to our
individual cellblocks.

When we got back, I went into my cell, not bothering to explain things to
Darren or see if he'd changed his mind about me.  I figured I knew the
answer to that, so I decided to isolate myself and not put my body in
harm's way.  That's a shame, because I was looking forward to seeing the
indoor rec room, which they used during inclement weather.  I heard it had
weight stations, a ping-pong table, a large television, and other things of
interest.  However, I decided to avoid the rec hour from now on, now that
everyone knew what I was in for.  Most of them now wanted a piece of me, as
they considered me among the worst and lowest form of criminal scum.

I had been lying on my bunk for over an hour, just thinking and trying to
figure out the best way to pass the time, when Darren appeared at my cell
door.  "Is it true what they're saying about you?" he asked.

"If you mean, did I get convicted for having sex with a young boy, yes.
But I don't force him, nor did I harm him in any way."

"The others are saying some really awful things about you, you know."  He
looked concerned.

"Yes, I know, and I find it strange how some of those guys can be so
judgmental.  I heard that other guy in the reception area was in here
because he fired a loaded shotgun at his girlfriend's car, while she was
sitting behind the steering wheel.  Guess he blew out her windshield and
rear window but missed her, yet everyone feels what I did is more
disgusting than what he did.  I heard he's just in here until his trial is
over, and then he'll probably be going to prison for attempted murder."

"Really?  I didn't know that."

"Well, that's some of what I heard while we were outside.  I don't know for
sure, but that's the scuttlebutt."

"Wow, I'll stay clear of him then.  And I heard that one of the other guy's
in our block, the bigger one who sat at the other table.  I heard he's in
here for assaulting a cop.  I guess the cop was trying to arrest him for
jacking a car, when the guy turned and beat the crap out of him.  I guess
his backup showed and stopped this guy, before he actually killed the cop.
He really scares me too."

"Yeah, there are some tough characters in here.  Hey, I'll understand if
you don't want to hang around me either."  I offered this to try to let him
off the hook.  He appeared to be tongue-tied after my comment, as his jaw
was moving, but nothing was coming out.  Finally, he got over that.

"Do you WANT me to stop hanging around you?" he asked, which actually
surprised me.

"No, I didn't say that.  I just thought that might be what you would decide
to do, after you learned what I'm in for."

"No, I still feel safer around you, than I do those others.  You just don't
seem like the type who would hurt me."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, but you heard the types of things
they're going to say about you, if you continue hanging around me.  They're
going to think we're doing things with each other, so it will only get
worse for you.  Are you sure you want to set yourself up for that?"

"I don't care.  I just feel safer around you, and I know you'll help
protect me."

"Yes, I'll do that, but I don't plan to go to rec any more, to avoid some
of those situations."

"Then I won't either.  I don't need that crap."

"Well, it's your choice, so I won't try to talk you out of it.  Besides, I
could use a friend in here too."  I was almost surprised to hear myself say
that, seeing I swore previously that I would make NO friends while in jail.

Now that we had reached an agreement, I think we both felt a little better
about being stuck here.  We just sat and talked until dinnertime, when we
heard the guard shout for us to come and get our trays.  Obediently we did
as we were told, taking our meals and sitting at the same table we sat at
earlier.  We were surprised to see that Fred still decided to join us.  We
didn't say anything, but thought he either didn't care, or he was more
afraid of the other pair in our cellblock.

This meal consisted of a salmon patty, which was made from chopped salmon,
mixed with egg and breadcrumbs, and then fried, like a hamburger.  It was
dry and needed a lot of ketchup, but I slapped it between the two slices of
bread we were also given, smothered it in the ketchup, and then ate it.  We
also had tatter tots, corn, and pudding, with another carton of milk to
wash it down with.  Most of the guys were bitching about the salmon
patties, as they aren't a favorite entree in here, and I take it that not
too many of the inmates cared for fish at all.

After downing this less than appetizing meal, the trays and silverware were
collected and taken out.  Fred, Darren, and I decided to stay out and play
some cards, while the other pair went to the other end, to watch the TV.
We had learned the deck of cards belonged to Fred, as that was one of the
items that could be purchased from the inmate store.  After a few minutes
of playing in silence, I decided to speak.

"Fred, I just want to thank you for not turning on me, like some of the
others did," I told him.

"Hey, we're all in here for doing something wrong, and the only thing I see
as being worse than the rest, is someone who killed someone else."  At
least he was more open-minded about such things.

"Well, I think I can speak for both of us when I say Darren and I both
appreciate that."

"Heck, it's no big deal."

We continued to play pitch and hearts until coffee was delivered around
8:00, and then we took a short break, to enjoy this once-a-day treat.
After that, we went down to watch a little TV ourselves, but we sat apart
from the other two.  They kept giving us all nasty looks and were
whispering between themselves, so we decided it best to steer clear of
them, at least as much as we could.  Just before 11:00, it was announced
that lights out would take place in five minutes, so we watched the end of
the program and went back to our individual cells.  I ended up brushing my
teeth in the dark, so I made a mental note to brush after coffee, from now
on.

About thirty minutes after lights out, the nightly catcalls began, as
inmates tried to intimidate those they felt more disgusting than
themselves.  It was soon obvious that I was going to get more than my share
of this treatment.  "Hey, baby-raper," I heard one guy call out, "why don't
you do us all a favor and string yourself up."  I guess this was pretty
typical treatment, for someone with that type of conviction.  The inmates
would try to get those who disgusted them to commit suicide, or face being
harassed and assaulted for the entire time they were confined.  I ignored
these comments, but others persisted.

"Hey, Bruce," one guy called out, to the larger of the final pair in my
cellblock.  "You'd better tell your wife not to bring your son to visit
anymore.  That guy will be drooling and thinking about getting a piece of
your son's ass."  I knew this comment was meant to enrage Bruce, so maybe
he'd assault me later, in a perceived preventative attack, to keep his son
safe.  How these simple minds work.

Seeing they weren't getting a rise out of me, they turned their attention
to Darren.  "Oh, Darren sweetie," one husky voice offered in a high
falsetto.  "If you like what you're getting from old Bobby-boy there, me
and my friends would love to give you an even better time."  Having said
this, he let out a husky laugh.  Now I did some thinking of my own.  I
couldn't believe they had the nerve to belittle me for what I had done,
when any one of them would have been happy to ram their cocks up Darren's
virgin ass, just so they could get their rocks off.  I guess they have
their own warped sense of morality.

I knew these current comments would unsettle Darren, but I was hoping he
was strong enough not to break down and give them any sense of
satisfaction.  He seemed to be, as I didn't hear a sound from his cell, but
I planned to talk to him in the morning, to see how he was holding up.  I
knew he'd need some support from me, to be able to keep resisting this
blatant form of harassment.  After another hour, I finally fell asleep,
thus ending my first day of confinement.

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