James had never imagined he would end up in prison. He had been in his last year of university, just trying to make a little extra money on the side. Make a dent in his mounting student loan debt. Selling coke to dumb frat kids in clubs for his druggie friend. He never thought he would get caught. Yet now here he was, stuck in this bleak, stone building with a bunch of violent criminals for the next couple of years.
James had been in prison for about almost a week now. At first he had been terrified about getting stabbed or beaten to death by some thug for looking at him the wrong way. At 5’9, skinny and white James didn’t think he’d be much good in a fight. Even at 23 he had a young face with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He looked boyish and afraid. But he’d found if he kept to himself and didn’t interact with anyone in the prison gangs then he could go about his day unmolested. He’d even struck up some friendly conversations with one or two of the more non-violent inmates.