"Anton Thorne. Come with me, you're out of here." The large Hispanic guard named Gabriel that worked my block hit the front of the cell with his wooden baton and motioned for me to follow him when the door opened.
"Has it been five years already?" I lifted my head off the pillow and sat up.
"No, but you're getting two years knocked off for good behavior--or overcrowding--yeah, it's probably the overcrowding." He grunted and waved his hand at me again. "You sure as fuck haven't done anything to earn an early release for good behavior."
"Well shit." A devious smile spread across my face. "I guess the legal system works after all."
I followed Gabriel down the row of cells filled with men that I had spent the last three years of my life with. I knew most of their stories and they were similar to mine. We were all small-time criminals that didn't deserve maximum security, but were too poor to qualify for the posh white collar prisons upstate. If my family would have been wealthy I would have spent three years getting conjugal visits instead of jacking off. The scars on my knuckles were a result of making sure jacking off was the only form of sex I had while I was locked up. I didn't mind a nice tight asshole, but I needed a pussy and some tits attached to it or it just didn't the job for me.
Gabriel took me to the processing center and I quickly collected the few items I had when I was locked up. My wallet was empty, of course, but they gave me what was left in my commissary account in cash. It wasn't much, but it was enough to buy a bus ticket. I got dressed and then I walked past the line of guards at the gate.
"You'll be back, Anton." A fat guard named Will, with jelly in his mustache from his latest donut raid, chuckled at me.
"They always come back." The woman next to him named Glenda, who was of similar size but shorter, nodded in agreement.