About midnight I was brought from IVS (temporary detention center) to prison. Going into the prison cell, I saw eight friendly pretty women aged 18 to 50 years.
Just want to describe the camera itself. Square room up to seven meters long and seven wide, with ugly walls of dirty brown color. The ceilings are very high up to five meters. Two huge Windows with grilles on the inside and outside. On the floor of the old worn linoleum. A night lamp was burning above the door. On the ceiling hung four light bulbs. From furniture: 3 bunk and 3 single-tier iron boxes (beds). From the armor-door on the left side, there was a table for dishes and a two-chamber refrigerator, an INDEZIT, followed by a clothes rack. Above the table on the bracket there is a TV. On the right side of the door: a large mirror on the wall, another clothes rack, under which stood a long nightstand for shoes. Here is a fenced off compartment with a sink and toilet, built-in toilet in the floor. Immediately behind the compartment there was an iron dining table – a common room, on the sides of which there were two benches. Next came two single-tiered rack, close to one of the Windows. On the opposite side were located the rest of the bunk. The table, benches, Shoe-stand and rack were bolted to the floor with huge bolts.
Saying Hello to the women, I went to the cell and sat on the bench, introduced myself, saying his name, first name and immediately called on what article I was arrested.
All the women in the cell tensed for some reason.
Their silence strained me and I asked the following question:
“Girls, and who you have in apartment senior or chief?”
“Our camera does not have a “Senior”, we are all “the fellowship”!”two women answered me in chorus.
Later I find out that these Gypsy and khokhlushka were arrested for fraud.
“There are older people in other cells, but we decided that we do not need an older one, because we are all equal!”the Armenian added.
After that, the fuss began, I was offered to change clothes, undress, because I continued to sit on the bench in a down jacket and warm boots. The Armenian woman poured me a mug of hot tea and offered to take a shower. To my surprise about the shower, she smiled and pulled out from under the rack hose with spray and pliers. Then famously in the toilet screwed the hose into the tap over the sink, supposed to bathe over the toilet. I could not swim, because the hot water was temporarily turned off, and swim under the icy water in a cold chamber, I did not have a desire.
The Armenian helped me to throw a heavy mattress on the free upper rack, which was over her. I started analysis of their bags of food, which to me at the detention center gave my son.
Put all the food on the table-the common Fund, I invited all the women inmates to be treated. They stared at the bananas in confusion and again there was a tense situation (later I find out that bananas in the women’s prison belonged to the ban). I had to force each prisoner to hand over a banana, from the rest of my food all categorically refused.
Immediately the Gypsy began to ask me about my “deluge”, for which I was arrested. After telling them everything, I noticed a lot of doubt on his face.
Then I out of the garment bag pulled out a huge folder of documents. Among other judicial decisions there was a resolution on arrest, also got the appeal complaint manually written by me the day before in IVS. Having handed over the arrest warrant and my appeal to my Armenian cellmate, I asked her to read everything aloud.
Natasha-Armenian read everything silently, to herself, then said to the whole camera:
“Girls, relax! She’s ours, not a decoy!”
Then the Armenian woman hugged me and said:
“Welcome to the Hut!”
And I loudly and hysterically roared.
My cellmates took turns coming up to me, telling me their name and the arresting article.
It turned out that the six prisoners were under “people’s article 228”: Lucy, Mila, Lera and three Natasha. And two, Mary-hohlushka and Natasha-Gypsy – 159. More about them: The composition of the house №190
Natasha-Armenian asked me:
“Do you need to talk to your family? (do I want to talk to my family on the phone?)”
Immediately Natasha-Gypsy and Masha-khokhlushka handed me a mobile phone. The Armenian took from the hands of the bats, the phone and handed it to me. I noticed how it pissed off a Gypsy and angrily glared at the Armenian and Ukrainian.
I was taken to a dark corner, which was not visible from the eye of the armor, covered with a gray blanket and allowed to talk for five minutes with my family.
It was two o’clock in the morning, I squatted under the blanket and stared blankly at the phone screen-flashlight, unable to remember the phone number of his son.
Then I decided to call my phone number in the hope that it was not confiscated by investigators during a search of the house. After a long and agonizing wait, I heard the frightened voice of my son, and again tears flowed from my eyes.
This five-minute conversation was valuable to both of us. I told my son in what women’s prison I was closed, and that I was all right. After his message, I calmed down that he is healthy and safe.
Later, Masha-khokhlushka approached me and wrote down my surname, a name and article of the criminal code under which me arrested, having told me that these data are necessary for a Copper.
Then it was unclear to me what “Hut, Boiler”, I did not ask, because from exhaustion at such a late hour I wanted to sleep. But in the cell no one went to bed, everyone was fussing and doing some business.
Mila’s cellmate pulled a rope out of the window. And rags tied to the rope got the package, inside was something wrapped in paper. A sheet of paper was attached to the package.
After reading the text, Milka smiling came to me and handed the package:
“You came from the Boiler!”
Still not understanding anything, I saw that on the attached paper it was written: “Ⓧ 190/112 brand New.”
Unfolding the package, I found: the belt from my down jacket, which was selected by the jailers at the entrance to the jail. Two packs of D. T. cigarettes, a pack of loose tea, a box of matches, a pack of tea bags, candy caramel and a short note:
“What is the need to address – the girls will explain how. From our Ⓧ, with prisoner respect!”
After reading the note aloud, the contents of the package, in addition to the belt with a down jacket, I laid out on the table and invited the women to eat. Natasha is the Gypsy woman opened a pack of cigarettes and divided them into nine people.
I staggered from fatigue and morilo in a dream, Natasha-Armenian helped me to climb on the top rack and put on the sides under the mattress two books that I felt the sides and fell.
I fell into a heavy sleep the first day, or rather the night in prison.
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