alcohol worse than drugs

It was about 1400 when we arrived at Lewes Prison, it looked the same as 18 months earlier, a big old Victorian Prison, that looked even more drab and weary in the grey rainy sky.

Here it was my new home for who knows how much of my sentence. As we went through the main gate I looked to see what the roll check was and it was 497, wrote at the back of the office clear for everyone to see. With several reversing back and forth motions, we pulled in by the Reception area. So there we were each of us on the wagon with a very small confined seat, well box, no bigger than a port-a-loo. I think we were all relieved that we did not have to go far.

After a while just waiting on the Sweatbox we began to rock the Van and bang on the windows. The impatient ones demanded they needed to get off, because they had to go to the toilet, which we all knew, was just a blag. I just thought well we are not going anywhere, so what’s the hurry. After a while they began taking us of starting with the weak bladders first.

I was handcuffed to a screw, don’t know why? I mean we were in Cat B Prison where could I run too? Anyway I was walked to the reception area and gave my details name, date of birth and to confirm my sentence. Then they shepherd me to a big room with a toilet in and big see through plastic windows of which was locked. We would wait here until they were ready to process us. In Lewes everything is done at there pace, and normal time can just wait. There was about 8 of us in total and I was gagging for a smoke so was Rob. We were all talking together with several different conversations taking place. I was to going from one to the another. Then once all the introductions had been said it went quiet. Rob said to me “You are looking well mate” to which I told him more of the big changes in my life and how well Emma had helped me.

One by one, we were called to be processed. It went in no particular order and eventually my turn came. I was once again shepherd into the main reception area and had to sign for the property that would be stored. Then I had to strip off and I soon found out that we could keep our own socks and underwear, which was a new thing, a good thing. I was given the usual grey tracksuit bottoms and the very fetching red T-shirts, very trendy (not). As soon as I had this on I lost a little bit of my identity. It dawned on me that once again here I was in prison with no immediate hope of release I was in the system till mid winter. They gave me a bedding pack, which consisted of two light green sheets and two green blankets, the same ones that are used up and down the country. They gave me the property that would remain with me in prison, this was not a lot a few books and a few posters my ring, my diary and my smokes, and surprisingly enough a very heavy pot cross that could have been used as a very good lethal weapon. This was classic of the system that would not allow me to have a very slim Walkman and tapes but yet they would allow me to have this potentially fatal weapon a pot cross. My sister got me that from Turkey along with a chessboard which once again would not allow me to have. They gave me a plastic plate, plastic bowl, and plastic cutlery. They lead me away to another large cell which was much the same as the last one. I instantly went for my tobacco, rolled a cigarette, and just waited, contemplating with whom I would be banged up with. Soon enough all us from the same sweatbox were all in prison uniform and waiting to get to the induction wing. All we wanted to do was just get in our cells and settle down for the day. An hour past and we were escorted to K- Wing, which was underneath A-Wing the main remand wing. As we walked along a few lads shouted out to other lads on the wing.



Just a short section from my book i can post more is true story