imprison - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
Beyond the walls there is always light, always fresh air and birdsong. So, though these walls keep me here, my soul is ever free to fly and dream.
Sadness sits an inch below Keller's face, eyes remaining dry, expression impassive. He knows that if he even lets a fraction out that the rest will follow, a never ending torrent of grief. All he does from sun up to sun down is sit with his forehead against the wall right above his canvass sneakers. They took his mama, they took his land, then they took his freedom - all to warn the others not to fight back. The prison would be the last thing he ever saw; the guards that beat him would give him his final feelings and the flickering bulb would be the last light he ever felt. Meadow City prison just wasn't the kind of place they let folks walk out of, every arrest was a death sentence, no exceptions.
Carter moves nothing but his eyes, his mind racing while every muscle stays rock still. The prison isn't designed for the purpose, the door is a regular door and the window too large, the bars added are so recent there is still drywall dust on the floor. It's a house, suburban most likely. Poor sound insulation could be his friend, the right noises at the right time to get attention...
There's nothing in this tiny room but my own heart beat and rancid breath. At times I have hit the iron bars with the ring on my finger, just to hear something different, to make a tune. Then the futility of it all hits me. I can imagine music all I want, recollect sunny days and picture wide open spaces, but these walls aren't crumbling any century soon. The only time I get to leave is to the interrogation room and even then I never see a face. The guards wear black hoods and the questions are delivered by a disembodied and distorted voice. I used to think that if I ended up in one of these places I'd be stoic, that my beard would drape the floor before I uttered a syllable. Apparently, I'm not that brave. I can either talk, converse, use my mind - or loose my mind. Some nights one part of my brain gets talking to another, whispering if I'm lucky, yelling if I'm not.
Some are free and never leave a space that is toxic, for many whom are imprisoned are the innocent.