Violated 3

(Violated1 and Violated2)



The car stopped in front of the large prison gates and one of the men stepped out to speak to some of the guards. He then came back into the car and as the gates slowly opened, the GMC drove in and finally came to a stop.

Though I was not informed of where we were headed, I knew it was the women’s prison as I had seen it before. During my first 3 years in (female) medical school our building was right next to the women’s prison. A prime location for women doctors.

I would frequently have my lunch in the yard as I watched the women who were in the prison and thought of their stories. Never did I think that I would be in there with them one day…but I guess one should never say never.

I was guided from the back of the GMC down a path then handed over to one of the women guards/prison personnel. I should stop here and explain that in my state of misery and shock I still had enough mental capacity to notice that one of the younger religious police men had begun flirting with the female prison guard. I found that to be quite interesting and funny seeing how I (the criminal) was here only for being in the company of a man who was not my legal guardian.

Yet here I witnessed these 2 laughing and flirting with each other as if they were lovers…

Now I was in the female prison and now my physical state began to decompensate. I started shaking violently while the female guard did nothing to address what was going on with me. I had lost control of my body that was reacting terribly to what it was forced to undergo. I was hungry, tired and indeed in sympathetic overload.

I was immediately asked to strip down to nothing. Which I did reluctantly and with each layer that came off the female guard stood there asking me to undress more. I finally stood there naked, ashamed and shaking trying to cover myself up with my hands and arms as she carefully inspected my body. She looked at every mark I had and demanded to know what the cause of each and every one was. I had bad psoriasis at the time but of course she didn’t know what that was.

I could only imagine the reason for this to be her trying to find marks of “fornication” on my body which unfortunately for her were not there. Once all that was done she took my clothes away and gave me a low quality night gown and cotton underwear which I have no clue who wore before me and ordered me to put them on. She then took me to my cell and on the way she lectured me about how I had thrown my life away for a boy who at this point couldn’t care less about me. She explained to me how I was a “typical case”. That she saw 10 of me every day and some of theses girls would eventually become disowned by their families due to the shame they brought on to their families.

“Is it worth it to throw your life away like this?” she asked me as she locked me in my cell.

So here I was…in my very own cell. The walls of this cell would witness tragic moments of my life and it was between these walls that my innocence, pride and humanity were taken away from me at a very young age. This cell had a surveillance camera with a bright red light that I would eventually use as a focus point to escape away with my mind into another more pleasant place. I had a mattress to sleep on that had been rotted out. It was placed directly on the floor and everywhere I looked there were cockroaches, ants, spiders and flies. It was in this cell that I developed my unrealistic and intense bug phobia that people find funny now that I am 30 plus years of age.

Over the next few hours I would lose it…I became hysterical and started yelling, screaming and crying. I shouted out for the guards to please let me out, please call my mother and father, please let me talk to them. I didn’t want to be alone. I yelled, begged and cried for anyone to come up and listen to me but that was useless. I would eventually lose my voice and fall asleep on that nasty mattress that was on the cold concrete floor.

Then, I woke up to the cell door being opened by a young girl who was about 12 or so bringing me dinner. She ran out as I called for her then the female guard locked the cell and they left. I looked at the food which was nothing but a piece of bread and some strange soup and refused to eat…what was the point?

Back to sleep I fell.

The next time the door unlocked it was early morning and the guard woke me up for the morning prayer. She guided me to the bathroom so I would wash up and then we went down to where all the inmates had to pray as the guards watched us. Prayer was not an option at this point, it was the law. So I squeezed in my spot which they had chosen for me. We were shoulder to shoulder and I found it hard to breathe much less perform a prayer but so I did.

I prayed with my body but not with my heart or mind. I was unable to recite any of the prayer rituals. I was simply going through the motions because that is what I had to do at that point to please the people who held me captive. The one thing I did do while praying though was break down again and cry.

The prayer ended and I was, once again, guided to my cell where I fell asleep.

To be continued..

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