Introduction to the Intensive Confinement Center

The day had finally come. After 18 months of pretrial supervision (which consisted of weekly drug tests and telephone check-ins, and being restricted to the five boroughs of NYC), after 18 months being with Lisa, after 18 months of fear wondering how much time I would actually do (and more importantly, where), the day had come for me to report to the Intensive Confinement Center, aka boot camp.

The name Intensive Confinement Center (ICC) sounds a lot worse though, doesn't it? Sounds like some 24/7 isolation lol but it's basically boot camp.

Lisa and I were to take a train down to Harrisburg, PA and there would be a car service waiting to drive us to Lewisburg, PA, an hour away.

I would be gone for six months, longest stretch that Lisa and I would be separated for. Ever since we met, we saw each other every day, and we both knew this was going to be a difficult adjustment.

Our last night together, Lisa was in tears. I'm not one to cry much, and I tried to stay strong enough for the both of us, to be her rock that she could lean on.

From the moment I met Lisa, I told her I was going to jail. I also told her I didn't expect her to wait for me. At the time I was facing up to five years, and she adamantly refused to break up, even when facing five years. I understood that she didn't realize how long five years were, so I let it go.

So looking at six months, given her conviction that she would have even waited five years (she claimed she had no doubt in her mind lol), she reiterated she would wait these six months as well.

We kissed and cuddled, wiping away her tears, soothing her with comforting words, it was both the happiest and saddest moment possible. We didn't sleep much. I also didn't have anything to pack. Weirdly, even the last night of freedom, it didn't quite hit home that I was going to be locked up. Probably because I had no way of relating to what I was about to experience. It was probably plain ol' denial.

We agreed to write to each other every single day, and when mail doesn't go out on weekends or holidays, we would keep writing and just combine them into one. If I were to list all the mushy stuff we did and agreed to continue doing despite our separation, you'd probably gag on your monitor just to stop reading, so I'll spare you a few Bounty sheets.

Dawn came, but unlike most fictions, dawn doesn't always bring comfort. This was the dawn I never wanted to see. Given that this was our last day together for six months, I would have thought we'd be more talkative, to make the most of it, but in retrospect it's obviously unrealistic.

Both the train and car ride were fairly silent. We spoke here and there but our hearts just weren't into it. Too preoccupied, we just hugged some more and Lisa cuddled into my arms.

We got to Lewisburg, a prison complex consisting of three facilities: ICC, the camp, and the penitentiary. The penitentiary is obviously a supermax, the camp is the lowest possible security level you can have (except for the ICC), and they don't even have a fence keeping the inmates in.

But any walk-off is considered armed escape with a five year sentence. Not many dared to.

Our car parked in front of the ICC, and Lisa burst into tears.

"Excuse me," I asked the driver. "Do you mind waiting a few minutes?"

"No problem. Take your time, I'm in no rush."

I thought I heard sympathy in his voice. "Thanks."

We got out to smoke a last cigarette together and say bye.

Three pulls in, I hear:

"Hey! HEY! Where do you think you are? Put that out and get in here!"

It was a Correctional Officer.

"I'm not scheduled to report before another 45 minutes," I replied politely.

"I don't care, you're here, you're in, there's no standing around here."

Goddammit. I had a problem with authority, and this was already a bad start. If I had known, I wouldn't have told the driver to park here so I'd have some more time with Lisa.

"But..."

"Get in here now!"

Flicking away my cigarette, I took one long last look at Lisa's tear-strewn face, hugged her, and my heart dropped to my stomach. This was it. This was really it. What the fuck.

With a sigh, I reluctantly let her go and finally shed a couple tears.

"I love you bebe."

"I love you too bebe."

And we both "tingled." Don't ask.

I turned around and walked into the Intensive Confinement Center.

First things first. They shaved my head. Wait, no. First things first, they yelled at me. Then they shaved my head. Then they yelled at me some more. And then other inmates whispered to me:

"Don't step on the black tiles."

"Why not?"

"Just don't."

Ugh, this was going to be a long six months...