Having served eight years in prison of the 12 he’d been sentenced to, they granted him freedom because of his good behavior.
The prisoners said goodbye to him with a mixture of sadness and joy, everyone wanted to be in his place, it was a feeling that gnawed at them.
A few days later they saw him return and the annoyance was widespread in the barracks. He declined to explain, he just went to his bed and lay face down.
Someone said he’d returned to serve those twelve years, plus four more for fleeing.
Later he explained that the guards were to blame. The day he was supposed to leave, they brought him in around 10 at night according to internal regulations.
“There I was informed that they wouldn’t sign my release until midnight and one minute, not one less nor one more, the duty officer told me. And I looked at that door where I should be getting out. I had dreamed of this moment for eight long years, and now the door was in front of me, begging to be possessed, begging me to take her all night. She offered herself like a woman receiving me with her legs open, ready to be penetrated, and I was biting my nails, watching the dark impertinence of those open arms.
The guards weren’t paying me any attention, ignoring the lack of respect of putting me in front of a naked woman without the ability to touch her, and I stretched out my fingers, then my hand, stood up, and I don’t remember how, my legs — responding to their own impulse — started to walk.
And in that immense night, without receiving freedom, I was lost.
Ángel Santiesteban-Prats
Prison 1580, May 2013
4 June 2013
