Page 55 of Freshman

“I’m not afraid,” Alfie snapped.

“Yes, you are,” Nate murmured back.

Alfie hurried away, then slammed the gate and glared at the corner of the prison where Nate’s cell was hidden in the dark.

“What’s he said this time?” Henry asked, peering over the top of his glasses.

“Nothing,” Alfie mumbled.

He moved to the filing cabinet and grabbed a section of the files, all in alphabetical order.

“Good,” Henry mumbled. “You’re starting to take this job seriously.”

“Says the man asleep in a chair.”

Henry wagged his finger. “Less of that, I’m only resting my eyes.”

Alfie turned back to the files and opened the first one. Richard Adams, in for a GBH charge. He sighed, then began to read.

As he read file after file, he realised words like Rapist, GBH, and Murder were horrible on their own, but worse when you learned the context. The details of the prisoners’ crimes were darker than Alfie imagined, and by the end of the shift, he peered into the dark of H-wing with nausea in his stomach.

He understood the ‘us and them’ feeling the prison had. The small breaches of protocol, obsessive smoking on the job, sex on the job and sleeping on the job were nothing compared to what the men had done inside the cells.

Disgust, weariness, and anger resurfaced in Alfie.

The voices that answered him in the dark belonged to people who had done horrible things. He had always known it, but it never seeped in fully until he registered names, ages, weapons, and for those victims that were still alive, statements. He felt sick, and after each file, he paused and rubbed his hands over his face.

Henry didn’t slip his glasses back over his eyes. He watched as Alfie read file after file, as if he had memorised each one. He wanted a reaction, and he nodded slowly each time Alfie hissed or scrunched his face.

“Evil,” Henry said. “No rehabilitation for most of the folk in here, and then there’s Nate. He’s the worst of them.”

Alfie stared at the cabinet. Nate’s file was still inside.

He was leaving it for last.

At the end of the shift, he tidied the files away under Ryan’s watchful eye. He nodded at Alfie, and Alfie nodded back. Some mutual understanding flowed between the day shift and night, and Alfie realised he’d just been accepted. It had taken him months, but all he’d needed to do was read the files and react in the expected way.

The next day was Friday, and Alfie couldn’t wait for it to be done. He needed a rest, needed to see Tia, have fun with her on her birthday and feel there was still life away from metal bars, locks, concrete, and the ‘scum of the earth’ like Nate had labelled the prisoners on the first night they spoke.

One more night…

Alfie rapped his knuckles to Nate’s door at roll call. “I took your advice and went through the files.”

“You’re lying,” Nate replied.

“I’m not—”

“You wouldn’t be speaking to me like this if you’d read mine.”

Alfie sighed through his nose. “I read everyone’s but yours and Queenie’s.”

Nate didn’t speak, but Alfie could feel his presence by the door.

“Why not read ours too?” Queenie asked.

“Because I don’t want to hate you, either of you.”

Nate chuckled. “You’ve said you hate me plenty of times.”

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