Stories From the Crib – Part 5

Nick BolleaEight feet by two feet – the aisle space my cellie and I have for walking in our cell while living in “the hole” – solitary confinement. Actually, it’s the amount of space my cellie has for pacing.

660 laps equal one mile. My cellie does about fifteen laps a minute, which is roughly one mile every 45 minutes. After every lap he completes he looks at himself in the mirror, nods, and says a silent “hello.” He paces for 7-10 hours (yes, HOURS) a day. That is equivalent to 9 to 13 miles or 5, 940 to 8,580 laps, and the same number of silent hellos and looks in the mirror every single day. It is absolutely mind boggling. It’s the same guy who spent nine years in solitary confinement in a Texas prison for killing people while in a gang fight. That’s how he does his time. Paces. Nods. Talks to himself. Thinks.

Whenever I write a letter on the small table in the cell or when I work out in the aisle space, I’m forced to place him on bunk rest. He’s not too happy about it, as he has severe ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) and can’t sit still. After an hour or so he starts getting the shakes and I know that’s my cue to wrap up what I’m doing. So I’m limited to about one hour a day off my top bunk.

Yes, it does drive me crazy – but God is definitely teaching me more and more patience every day. The poor guy is going to a Federal “Mental” Prison in a few weeks. I guess that is what happens when you spend almost ten years of your life in solitary confinement. I guess I need to get out of here, or else…..

Once again, sharing what happens in the crib. You don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be here. Prayers appreciated.

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