Personal Narrative: My Trip To Southside Prison

Beep, Beep, Beep, my alarm rang. I looked over and saw 6:30 in big red digital numbers. I got up out of my broken down bed and started my morning routine. I brushed my teeth, got dressed, then made my breakfast. My parents are usually awake by dawn so I went into their room to look for them. I saw a bright yellow sticky note on their bed that read, “Have to go to work early, but I promise will be back to pick you up from school”. I thought to myself, Mom and Dad would never leave without saying goodbye. Something big had to be happening. My parents were prison guards at Southside Penitentiary. I am scared everyday they go to work because they work in the most dangerous prison in Detroit everyday. Today felt weird for some reason, but foolishly

I didn’t have a car so I ran as fast as I could. The closer I got, the louder the police sirens were. I was so scared that I was shaking, but I knew my parents needed help. I arrived at the dilapidated building that was Southside Prison. I snuck in the back entrance and tried to find my way to my parents office. I had never been to the prison before, because my parents didn’t want the prisoners to know they had a kid.

I was making my way through death row when I heard their muffled screams. I ran towards them as fast my raggy converse could take me. I went through countless cell blocks, but had no luck finding them. They kept screaming, “JEROME, JEROME, JEROME.” I yelled, “I’M COMING MOM AND DAD”. That was the stupidest thing I have ever done and I am going to regret it for the rest of my life. By yelling, I gave away my position to the countless prisoners lurking the area. Also every single prisoner there hated my parents because they were their guards. Once I saw the first inmate I knew I was in

He looked at me in disgust obviously realizing who my parents were. He yelled something in a different language at me and all I could understand was parents. He clearly was not a fan of my parents or me, so I started sprinting the other way.

I finally lost him, but I took so many turns that I didn’t know where I was going. I ran into a room with just two big black bags on the ground. I did not know what to do with them, so naturally I looked inside. I expected to see something like weapons or prisoner records, but instead I saw my dad’s pale lifeless body. Devastated, I opened the other one knowing what I would find, nevertheless I still felt the need to look. Sure enough my mother was lying still in the bag, grasping onto a picture of me. I broke down into tears and the only thing I could think was I have to get out of this evil place.

I started running home thinking about what my life was going to be after this. I couldn’t see any way to get through what had just happened. I was almost home when I saw a familiar car pass me. It turned out it was my parent’s car, however my parents were not driving it. It was the tattooed man from the prison. So many thoughts were racing through my mind. How did he get their car? How did he find me? Why did he find me? Then the man pulled out a small black object and pointed it at me. At this point I knew exactly what was going on. I began to run as fast as my unathletic body would take me.