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They Quit! A Prison Victory!
by: Robert J. Shelley ©2004

Thirty years ago I didn't think I could do Natural Life so I played Russian Roullette with a solid straight razor blade. Dying meant nothing, Natural Life - Death, no decision. Time to go.

I put out my left arm, looked the other way, and sliced my arm above the elbow to the bone. Blood splattered across the cell and splashed into the toilet. The gash was huge like an eye socket.

I had a cup to fill with blood and splattered the cell from floor to ceiling - I was getting into the artistic side of all this. I laughed to myself thinking, "I wouldn't want to be the poor slob to clean this."

I heard the prisoner that gave me the blade whispering, "Medic, Medic." I peeked over and saw him whispering and pointing at my cell. I removed the light bulb and fell back into the dark.

He called a screw with a flashlight, they shined it in, the cell dripping deep red blood, cockroaches feasting, I was cold and shaking, but playing dumb. They all went scrambling for keys, opened the cell and dragged me away on my knees.

I spent the night in surgery at the Shattuck, woke up in the afternoon and in straight jackets in Walpole that very next night. I was like little Houdini - they'd put on the straight jackets minutes later I'd have them off and we'd go back at it.

They chained, straight jacketed, sheet tied and legironed me to a bench in the hall, for good measure they hogtied a sheet from the legirons over the back of the bench and around my throat.

Well, then they got tough and took turns to see who could snap my head back the farthest. My eyes, nose, and mouth were bloodied but I shook off every punch and spit blood in their faces - told them I f____ their wives and mothers just like right now they were doing with others.

They gave me a good one that night but they got tired, I spat more blood on them till they realized I wouldn't break, They Quit - A Prison Victory!

I was proud, I passed my first test of many.

It was all so... Contradictory. I won.

Meet Author Robert J. Shelley