visetvires | Entries tagged with do the next right thing

People have been talking a lot about what inmates are allowed to do - what power inmates should have and how those should be distributed. And maybe that's a conversation that needs to happen. I don't want to be a part of it, because I am and have always been human.

What bothers me is that the wardens, who have the most power over us by sheer virtue of being wardens in this place, also have full access to powers that could crush every single human in here. I'm not going to reference particular times and places when that's happened, because we all remember them. For those of you who are too new to know what I'm talking about, imagine going up against a dragon with a toothpick.

This isn't necessary. It isn't necessary for anyone on this boat to be stronger than anyone else in order to achieve the alleged goal of rehabilition.

And I'll tell you one other thing: all my adult life, I've been fighting outnumbered against creatures ten times stronger and more dangerous than I could ever be. As far as I'm concerned, the way things stand around here now, this is just a continuation of that fight.

[A beat. A breath.]

. . . And Scott, get over here, please. There's something I have to show you.

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[The feeling of safety lasts approximately three hours after the fire's put out. Clementine is alone, which is not so unusual, and sober, which is, when she realizes that a clock is ticking. There's a clock on her wall. Honestly she never noticed it before, but now it seems obscenely loud.]

[She pulls it off the wall and takes the batteries out, then hangs it up again, its hands frozen. Stares at it for a few moments. Pulls out a piece of paper and makes a list of what they've learned.]

[It's not enough.]

[This is not a fact that she can accept, not like this, so alone and so sober. So instead of sleeping, she sets about to fixing one of these problems at a time. The second one's easy. Once she's tackled it and kicked the bottle under the bed, she makes her way out to the deck. It's not as late as she thought it was, nine or ten, and there are still plenty of people around. One thing she's got in her favor is she doesn't seem as drunk as she is. She can walk around, look at things, hands clasped behind her back like any other functioning person. People-watch.]

[Only, if anyone notices, this is anathema to her habit. She isn't normally out this late unless she's doing something specific, she doesn't mingle, and ordinarily her gaze is sharp - too sharp. Now she watches everyone as though viewing them through fogged glass, like she can see vague outlines but nothing else.]

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Gᴏᴅ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ.

Hᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛs ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴛʀᴏɴɢ.

Entries tagged with do the next right thing

ten † where help is almost despaired of

cinq † of things almost despaired of ( cw ; fire / arson , alcoholism )

ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴛʀᴏɴɢ.

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