Troll

Because of the sensitive nature of my job, I cannot say that the following story is 100% true and accurate. Besides, I like to embellish! Names and places have been changed to protect Identity and ensure job security.

In a maximum security facility in a city far, far away...
...there lives a troll. Picture a soft, furry, huggable, teddy bear. Imagine a cross between Frodo Baggins and the down syndrome kid, Corky. Take Burt's uni brow from sesame street. Add Wolverines haircut and chops. Use Jared Sorenson's Lips with Ruben Reynold's acne. Measure how 'too' close together Joel's eyes are and flip that, placing the eyes that same measurement too far apart. Insert Larry Whiteside's belly role and squash 280 pounds into a 4'6" height. Now put on some 3x tighty-whiteys and an inmate jumpsuit. Behind the huge forehead you'll find the IQ of Forrest Gump, a dose of gullibility, ignorance, and very slight retardation, just enough to make you feel a bit sorry for him, but enough crazy behind they eyes to make you wary. Now you are ready to hear the story.

Troll lives in single cell isolation. He has proven that other inmates can and will take advantage of him, in every way thinkable. So he is housed alone for his protection. His unpredictability and past record makes him a liability to the company so we have to keep him on 15 minute suicide watch. He comes out of his cell for 15 minutes every 3rd day for a shower. He gets a rubber finger toothbrush like you would use for a newborn. He gets a stubby rubber pen to write with. He is in a section with 11 others, locked away for similar reasons. All twelve are in individual concrete rooms, 6' by 10'. There is a small obscured window in each cell for sunlight. The section is brightly lit and the lights never get turned off. To speak to a fellow inmate you have to yell. There are always multiple conversations going at one time. They try to yell over each other to be heard. They get frustrated. They bang on their metal doors. They scream. If you weren't insane when you went in, you will become insane...and you may never get out.

Troll wanted out. He stuffed his towel and jumpsuit under the door. He put his underwear and socks in the sink. He turned on the water. It wasn't overflowing quickly enough. He tore his sheet, making a thin rope. Climbing onto his toilet then up to his sink, he looped the rope through the fire sprinkler. He pulled and pulled with his stubby troll arms. He beat at the sprinkler with his flimsy boat shoes. He yanked some more until finally the sprinkler head gave way. Goosh! A stream of water like a miniature fire hose sprayed into his cell. Within minutes he was sitting in a swimming pool on nasty ice water.
"Now they have to take me out!" Thought Troll.
The Security detail took their time responding to the incident. They turned off the water. They checked on all the other inmates and their well-being. Soon Troll was shivering uncontrollably. But he did get out. He was locked in the section shower while his room drained. He was then placed back into his cell. Everything was stripped from the cell, even the mattress off the bed. Troll was given a thick smock garment to wear. After hours of pondering, Troll realized that his plan had not worked so well.

A few weeks went by. Troll wanted out of his cell. He grabbed his 3" rubber pen. He gripped it in a tight fist. He left half of it sticking out. He rammed it with all his troll power into his other arm. It sunk deep. It hit the bone. He smiled. The officer, routinely checking the cells at 15 minute intervals, came upon a grinning troll with a pen sticking out of the forearm. Troll was awarded an overnight stay in the secure infirmary. The following day he was placed in his stripped cell with his one piece smock.

Troll was good for over a month. He was being too good. The security officers deemed him able to move to a less secure and more privileged section. Troll was scared. His first night in the section was a shock. The lights went out at 10 pm. The other inmates went to bed. It was quiet. It was dark. Troll was afraid. He was still awake the following morning when the medical team came by. They were delivering various prescribed medication to the inmates. When they came to Troll's door they passed him his normal meds and then asked, "Do you want your diaper?" Troll stammered something about not wetting the bed last night and refused the diaper. The Med tech explained that he was only doing his job as Trolls name was on the "soil list", so he had to offer. But the damage had been done. The inmates teased him relentlessly all day.

In tears, Troll wanted out. He ripped his sheet again. He twisted the strips into a strong rope. He climbed onto his toilet then balancing on his sink he looped the rope through the vent in the ceiling. He made a second rope and wrapped it tightly around his neck. When he looked up, a security officer was staring at him through his window.
"I want out." Said Troll.
"We can pull you out long enough to strip your cell and put a smock on you, then back in you go!" Said the Officer.
Troll tightened the rope around his neck. He motioned to the officer that it was so tight he could no longer speak. Troll grabbed the other rope that was hooked to the vent. He began tying the ropes together. The officer chuckled.
"You have to make the rope shorter. You will need to stand on the sink. You are so fat, that rope won't hold you though."
Troll stared hatred through his beady, far-spaced eyes. He twisted the rope tighter around his neck. His face turned red.
"It's getting tight, huh?" Asked the officer.
Troll paused. His eyes widened. His face was now purple. He nodded.
"Get on your knees. Face away from me. I will cut that rope off your neck." Troll complied.
He was hand cuffed. He was shackled. He was escorted outside, into the fresh air of evening. He was loaded on a van and transported to the secure infirmary. He stayed 2 nights. He is now back in his original cell with the lights on. He is content...for how long?