Forty to Life(Jamie Lee) In the outskirts of San Francisco, tucked away like a secret the city didn’t want anyone to know about, a dark building pierced the flat spread of the earth and shot upwards against the sky. The ominous structure held an air of mystery and suspicion, which was all very well, since it housed some of the most dangerous criminals in the nation. The San Francisco National Penitentiary looked and played the part: the walls and defense systems of the prison were the best in the world and impossible to escape from. The whole area passed under constant video surveillance, with sweeps by the guards every half hour. The uniquely circular cells, made of the same cold slate gray stone as the rest of the building, imprisoned the mind as well as the body. Based on the principles of a caged bird, the lack of corners gave prisoners no semblance of a place to hide. They were reduced to pacing in aimless circles, feeling boarded in from all sides. For any unfortunate soul on whom the hand of justice fell, there was no hope of freedom once their eyes lit upon the steel bars of the prison.

Jared Madeya was one of these people. To the outside world, he was just another criminal. But to those who knew him, he was another victim of the system with a story left untold. He was only twenty-five, a remarkably young age to be thrown into such a damning situation. His physique, built like a long, lithe panther, showed the years he spent fighting for his life every day in the harsh realities of the Los Angeles ghetto. The gangs that walked the streets around his neighborhood were ruthless, and Jared had gotten into too many fights to count in his attempt to protect his family. Since his father’s death, Jared had taken over the responsibility of protecting and providing for his mother and sister; they weren't strong enough to fend off the dangers Jared could, and for two women living alone, the threats increased exponentially. Jared’s father made some bad decisions and fell in with the wrong crew of people. As if that weren’t bad enough, he had also crossed a line in criminal politics by disrespecting one of the most powerful gang leaders in Los Angeles. Next thing the family knew, Jared’s father showed up on the family’s front lawn in a body bag, beat to death and lacking more than a few appendages.

Despite his desire for vengeance, Jared vowed to live a straight life: he had seen enough crime to last him forever. So he worked as a mechanic to provide for his family and pay down the debt his father owed the gang, members of which lurked outside their doorstep, threatening to pounce on Jared’s frail, widowed mother and teenaged sister. They were all he had left, and he would do everything in his power to make sure they didn't suffer the same fate as his gang walking father. Jared worked day and night at the shop to ensure that his family would never have to live a rough life again. The family had three meals on the table daily, clothes on their backs, and a bed to sleep in every night. And for a while, everything seemed to be looking up for the Medeyas.

That is until the fateful day in August changed his life forever. His small garage had received a new client who needed work on his classic BMW. It was a rare sight in this part of Los Angeles, and Jared felt privileged to be able to work on it. He was tuning up the engine when he heard the distinct thud of a gun resound through the air. It sounded close, much too close. After one, there was another, and then another. Jared knew what it was and ducked for cover until the shooting in the parking lot outside his shop had ceased. He felt like he was crouched there for an eternity. Dead silence stifled the air, heavier than a lead weight, and Jared was worried. Despite his tough-looking exterior, he had a compassionate heart. He had to find out if there were any survivors and make sure they were all right, even though his every instinct told him not to get involved. He opened the door of his shop and ran out into the parking lot -- all but straight into the arms of prison guards.

There was absolutely nothing that caught Jared’s eye at first glance: no shot cars, no broken windows. Jared swept the area one more time, and a glint of red caught his eye. He ran over to where the liquid marked the edge of a vehicle. Apprehensively, he turned the corner and winced. A man lay in a prone, twisted position, four bullet holes marking the corners of a clean diamond in his chest. He was gone. Jared knelt beside the figure, gently closing his eyes. The man could have had a family, a smiling wife planning dinner at home, a perfect white-picket fence around his two-story house. Jared was devastated knowing that all of that had now been destroyed in a matter of minutes.

The wailing of sirens tore through his deep musings. A sense of dread filled his gut. What’s my alibi, he thought immediately. He knew the cops would think he did it. Good thing there isn’t a gun that would match these holes anywhere near here.

Jared knew fleeing the scene would look bad. So, he waved the officers over. “Over here! There’s a dead man here!” He thought he was doing the right thing, giving the man a last gift by helping the officers catch his killer. Moments later, the body was covered, and Jared was questioned. It seemed like he would get by as a witness, until...

“Hey, chief! Over here!” a younger cop cried. Everybody looked over, including Jared. The officer knelt down, and raised his hand. Jared’s gaze narrowed and locked onto his hand. There, in an innocent blue handkerchief, was a gun, its serial number sanded off. Jared closed his eyes and knew it was over. With that resignation, he couldn’t help but shake the feeling that this was all a huge setup, construed by the gang his father had crossed.

Jared was arrested and read his rights, but he heard nothing. In that last second before he was pushed into the back of the cop car, he could have sworn he saw the smirk of the gang leader grinning sarcastically back at him from the dark window of a passing Cadillac, lifting his hand in a wave of farewell. He knew the gang’s plan had gone off without a hitch. They probably even bribed the police officers to make sure of his arrest. In the back of a police car for the first time, Jared became overwhelmed by fear and rage: fear for his mother and sister, who would be alone, and rage for his selfish father, whose actions haunted him to this day. He resigned to fight the corrupt political system that could be led astray through little more than a bribe.

Jared now found himself once again surrounded by criminals, but these ones had the misfortune of being caught by the law. To tell the truth, his fellow prisoners were more innocent than the people he walked amongst in LA. Some of the prisoners had been wrongly accused of a crime they hadn’t committed. The people he knew back home were guilty of worse crimes than many of the people in the penitentiary, including rape, murder, and drug trafficking. However, they had the money to pay off witnesses and the police, and the power to intimidate those who would still open their mouths to talk even with a bribe. For the few that resisted all coercion, they were never heard of again, wiped off the map. Yes, the people Jared lived with were worse criminals than the jailbirds he lived with now. He felt an urgency that increased daily, pushing him to return home to protect his mother and sister and get revenge upon the people who had put them in harm’s way.

The first day was the worst for Jared. Used to a free, flexible schedule in his work as a mechanic, the rigid, structured time slots for every activity were uncomfortable. He hated the orange jumpsuit they made him wear; it was hot and stuffy and rubbed in all the wrong places. The cell he was assigned to was nearly unbearable. The maddening circular area only added to his insanity. Almost as awful were the other prisoners. Jared was used to the threatening, dangerous types, but his prison mates were of a completely different breed of menacing. One wrong look into their eyes would incite a new murder. Jared wisely took one look around the cafeteria, and kept his head down and decided to remain as unassuming as possible for the remainder of his time here. So much for making friends in prison, Jared thought humorlessly.

The next few weeks passed uneventfully. Jared’s body settled without too much of a fuss into the new rhythm of prison life. He grew to treasure the two free hours a day all the prisoners received. In these hours, all the facilities were opened to the prisoners, including the fenced-in yard outside the compound. Jared took to sitting or pacing outside for the entire two hours. But even in the illusion of freedom the fresh air brought, the nasty barbed-wire-topped fence just yards away brought reality crashing down upon any sense of hope he was able to muster.

During one of these free hours, a flicker of movement caught Jared's eye. A small, brown rabbit grazed peacefully just beyond the fence of the compound. With a twitch of its nose and a flick of his ears, the creature bounded away. It jumped towards the brick wall of the outside perimeter of the prison, and wriggled through a gap in the wrought iron bars. Jared suddenly drowned in a wave of jealousy. That small creature had the pleasure of coming and going as it pleased, while he was stuck behind bars.

As he slogged through the mire of emotions, a shot of inspiration shoved through the muck of his mind. Everybody had the right to appeal. Jared would appeal, prove he was innocent, and become a free man once again.

The next few days, Jared spent his free hours in the library of the prison, researching the process and likelihood of appeal for every prisoner online. He liked what he saw: an appeal was fairly easy to send, and the chances of a hearing were good.

Jared headed to the office of the prison the next day. He endured a pat-down and proceeded to talk to the head of the prison. “Hi. I’m here to pick up an appeal form.”

The officer looked up, scanning his condescending gaze from Jared’s head to toe. Then, he snorted. He got up, dusted off a manila folder, and handed Jared a faded packet of paper. “Good luck with this, bud,” the head replied in a sardonic tone.

Jared wondered about the man’s disbelief in the success of the appeal, but the curiosity was buried in the fresh avalanche of excitement that buried him. The flimsy pieces of paper he gripped could be his ticket out of this hellhole. “Thanks,” he said, his words laced with unfounded gratuity. With the short exchange, he headed to the library to start on his appeal.

After the couple days he needed to finish it, Jared sent the packet. His hands shook in anticipation as he sealed the letter. He was certain he would receive a hearing at the very least. He went to dinner that day more hopeful than he had been in a long time.

Jared was unusually attentive that night. As a result, he tuned into snippets of conversations floating around in the room. Most were mundane and brainless.

“Jared. Take him for example, that poor guy.”

Jared stiffened slightly at the mention of his name. Continuing to eat like he didn’t hear a thing, Jared slid his eyes over to the source of this new thread. His gaze landed on a pair of officers monitoring the room. Their stare was fixed on him as the new subject of their interest. He watched as one of the officers turned to the other and spoke, “He’s never getting out of here.”

As the other officer nodded in agreement, Jared went cold and numb inside. He was right. His father’s old gang had set him up. The truth of it still hurt. He knew the entire system was corrupt. The gang bribed the jail to hold an innocent man, and they held him. His appeal would never be granted. What is the gang doing to my mother and sister then, Jared thought with horror.

He sat there, methodically pushing the cardboard food into his mouth, until the red haze cleared from his vision. Perhaps the officers had been misinformed. Maybe his appeal would be granted. Jared just had to wait until the response came back from the top. With that thought reassuring him slightly, he bowed his head and continued to work on his meal.

The next week was a painful waiting game. Every day Jared would straighten eagerly during mail time, and slump back down at the end when he remained empty-handed. Finally, on the very last day of the week, he heard the words he had been waiting for: “Jared Madeya.”

Barely able to stop himself from dashing up to the mailman and snatching the single letter in his hand, he calmly walked up to the front and took his letter with a nod and a thank you. San Francisco National Penitentiary, the address read. This was it. The moment of truth, the deciding factor that broke or strengthened the thread holding the sword above his head.

Jared stalked back to his cell, and shakily lowered himself onto his cot. He ripped into the envelope without hesitation. It was now or never. His fingers scrabbled at the paper, unfolding it so fast he tore the side a little.

His eyes scanned the page hastily.

The words blurred.

The paper slipped from his dead fingers.

Mr. Madeya, it is with the greatest regret that we must inform you your request has been denied.....
Jared fell back numbly, banging his head against the wall as he closed his eyes. He didn’t feel the pain over the stabbing in his heart. It was over; he was done. The gang had won. They finally got what they had always wanted. Jared’s life would be spent in this prison, and his mother and sister would become their property. All because of the corruption and greed of the authority figures.

He sat there for what could have been a second but felt like an eternity. Numb, dark, spiraling. His mind was collapsing in despair and exploding with rage. Most of all, he felt helpless.

Then, his eyes snapped open. No, he would not just sit in his cell and let the system and the gang walk all over him. He would fight back. If the corruption of prison had cheated him of his life, Jared was determined to steal it back. He would escape the inescapable. He would forget about living a straight life. He would break out of prison and get his family back. He would not surrender.

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