Tell a story from the perspective of a character projecting their thoughts and feelings directly on to someone else using the second person (you) narrative.
You seem different. Your pale grey jumpsuit is almost insulting to your skin tone, but you are comfortable in them, almost naturally used to them. You have definitely not murdered anyone and you would not be reckoned to be an arsonist. You probably have stolen something, a robber you must be.
The server at the canteen is not very happy to see you. She is trying very hard to not make eye contact but your eyes are fixated on her face as she serves you, you almost derive a sense of power in establishing dominance over someone you will never meet after your time served here. You carry a tray filled with poorly constructed sandwiches and a juice box to the nearest table. Everyone is seated in groups across the hall but you want the isolated corner of an awkwardly placed table in the room.
The jock who has been here longer than most inmates has now stepped on top of his chair. It is time for his weekly meal speech, and everyone around has sensed this. The silence covers the room like a blanket in one swift movement, and all eyes are now on him. All except yours. You are unfazed, and the old, wrinkly woman on the other end of the table looks at you with a hint of concern. She recognises that you are new here, and tries to signal the development with a slight push to the table. It rocks your plate but you continue to eat. This cannot bode well with a man who maintains his sanity through terrorizing other people.
He clears his throat with a rugged, loud noise, not hoping to capture your attention, but to divert everyone else’s to you. You roll your eyes. You are more aware than you are given credit for, and you look up with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.
“When I stand to speak, everyone stops and listens”, he says sternly, slightly amusing you by the idea that he made the effort to explain that out loud for one person in the room. You lift your eyebrows in acknowledgment, a nod to the fact that he can now commence his speech. His words replace the silence and everyone continues looking but not necessarily listening. Void eyes and blank faces sit still in obedience until he concludes his sentences and bangs a plate to the table.
The frustration is mutual in this facility but it is silently endured and another day passes with the same cycle of actions and routine to follow. You leave the hall as a momentary disturbance on the day, along with many others who have done the same, whose light is gradually dimmed and emotions muted as they stagnated there till the served time. You, like them, might not be any different. You cave and you will continue to, peeling away at the layers of hope and resistance that you built over the years. You will become just the same.