Shadow Lands
Chapter Two (thirteen months before)
The countless stapled packets of articles cluttered my desk. How could this be? Fifty years without a single clue of what goes on inside of the New England Penitentiary, and the public is still okay with sending more people every day to that prison? I sat back in my office chair and tied up my hair into a messy bun. My heart shifted up in pace as I let my thoughts organize themselves in my mind.
Was it really impossible that nobody has looked into this subject? It has been hard to ignore considering the 50th-anniversary speech that will be held by the President later tonight. I grabbed my pen and clicked the back of it, peeled off a sticky note from the stack and scribbled down my questions. Julian from the Political Department was going to go to that speech; perhaps she could get some answers for me. I collected my badge tag, slung it around my neck and walked towards the elevator, sticky note in hand.
The doors finally opened and I saw Julian walking out, perfect.
“Julian!” I called. She looked up from her phone screen and she smiled as she stopped and slipped her phone in her back pocket.
“Hey Zoe, you got something for me?” she asked and bit her lip with curiosity. I passed her the sticky note and she looked over the questions, her features betrayed the smile that still hung from her lips, “Are these questions for the President’s speech tonight?”
“Yes, I was hoping you could try to get some answers for me? I’ve been looking into the N.E.P. and I haven’t found a single article or report in the database about it. Not one! Don’t you think that people should know what goes on beyond that wall? Apparently, activity in prisons used to be public record pre-N.E.P.; perhaps if you pressed the President we might get a hint about it.” I couldn’t contain the excitement that had bubbled in my voice as the words progressed.
Julian’s eyes filled with concern, but when she spoke, her voice was as professional like it always was, “I tried that before... if anything every single journalist that has walked through the front doors of this newspaper has attempted to tackle the mystery behind the New England Penitentiary. All that information is sealed behind closed doors. Nobody budges or they simply claim it is best for the nation to not know.” She cleared her throat and passed the sticky note back to me and then reached for her phone, turned the screen on and returned to doing whatever it was she was doing before I interrupted her plans.
I stood still for a moment while I let the information settle down. If there were so many people attempting to crack this story, it will only be time before someone finally managed to crack it. It would make their careers fly. I returned to my cubicle and sank into my chair. I crumpled the sticky note and tossed it onto my desk. What if I wrote it myself? It has been 4 years since I was hired here and all I’ve done is find stories for established journalists. None of my works have been published, but if I pulled this off…just maybe, people would finally take my work seriously.
Fine, my mind was made up. I’ll build up my case like I always did for the other journalists and then present my project to the Director Board to get approval. I tapped the edge of the desk, lost in thought, and then got to work.
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It took a month to collect all the data I needed to put my presentation together, but I finally had it ready and I set up a presentation date and time. I stood tensely in front of the panel of editors and my boss, not to mention my boss’s boss too. Nervous wasn’t even close to what I felt turning in the pit of my stomach.
“Ms. Adams, please tell us what your proposal is about?” asked Jessica Thawn, the Editor-in-chief. The lady seemed impatient as she glanced at her watch, at what felt like every three seconds. I cleared my throat and pressed the slide clicker and turned on the PowerPoint presentation.
“I want to propose a long term, undercover, investigation at the New England Penitentiary, also known as the ‘Shadow Lands’…to infiltrate and learn about the inner world of the prison system,” I attempted to say swiftly. Mumbles already began behind me but I pressed on and faced them fully, “It has been one month since the 50th Anniversary speech of the President and not a single person asked him about what goes on inside of the N.E.P. To this day all we know is that there hasn’t been a single escape and that there hasn’t been a single case of injuries involving the well-being of the guards, but we have no information about the convicts. What we do know about the process is this:” I clicked the remote and moved to the slide filled with bullet points, “No electronic technology is allowed to be processed by convicts like in any prison beforehand. No weapons, of course. All mail and packages are scanned and inspected thoroughly before they are sent to their corresponding owners. They are free to wander wherever they wish within the penitentiary property…any attempt to escape will end in death. Yet not a single death has been reported either.”
I met gaze by gaze across the panel and most of them seemed grave, a few showed interest. Like myself, I hope some also found it unlikely that not a single person has attempted to escape. More likely the government hasn’t reported it, and anyone could see that this would be a major scoop. One of the smaller editors from the media department spoke up, “I am assuming you are volunteering yourself for this assignment?” I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded.
“I actually want to do this assignment myself,” I state out loud and wait for the denial from the panel.
“Ms. Adams, if you do manage to infiltrate New England Pen, what do you plan on reporting on?” asked Thawn. I hesitated briefly; surprised they haven’t turned me away yet. I took a deep breath and responded.
“I want to see what their lifestyles have become. We have no idea what goes on beyond those walls. Anarchy? Civilization? It’s every man for themselves kind of environment. It has been proven that in the prisons we used to have throughout the country, gangs would form and control their territories. But how would that work in a whole nation? I want to study human nature in this situation, and see what happens to such a large population when put under such conditions. Not a single person has looked into this… aren’t you a little curious? Don’t you think the families of those convicts would like to know what kind of conditions they are living in?” I exclaimed passionately and all I was greeted with was a solid wall of silence.
“Ms. Adam, please give us a moment to discuss your proposal,” stated Ms. Thawn and I set down the remote and left the conference room. I wished I left my gut behind there too. It was so tangled up inside of me; I felt it all the way up in my chest, suffocating my lungs. When the glass door closed behind me, all the wind was knocked out of me.
An eternity passed through and returned, or at least that’s how it felt. I walked to the break room and prepared myself a small coffee, with the hope that it would control my bad case of jitters. The assistant editor came out fifteen minutes after me and called me back in. Together we walked back to the conference room and when we entered, I was slightly surprised to see only Ms. Thawn and my supervisor Jackie, left in the room. The assistant sat down and I waited anxiously for their answer.
“We have thoroughly discussed the pros and cons of this assignment. If you choose to go through with it…we will not support you with this decision. It is too risky for your safety but also with the government. There is a reason they have shut out the public from this information that you seek, and the government has never welcomed kindly to people that challenge their authority…” informed Jackie. Her face expressed her concern and if Thawn wasn’t present, I probably would have fought more. I lowered my gaze and bit the inside of my cheek as I muttered a thank you and gathered my items before walking out of the conference room. My cubical wasn’t close enough to my liking and when I reached it, at last, I dropped my things there and sat in my chair. I was restless and started cleaning and organizing my desk. When there wasn’t anything else to do, I got up and headed straight to the women's lavatory.
I locked the door behind me and then stood in front of the mirror. I turned on the water and splashed it onto my face to wash away the disappointment. It wasn’t unexpected, but it still hurt to hear it straight to my face by the people that were supposed to support me. I raised my gaze until they met my own eyes and I sighed. Water dripped down my lightly tanned skin. The emptiness in my brown eyes reflected the hollowness I felt inside my body. I have to get this story; people have to know the truth…if I had someone in there, I knew I would want to know. But I was alone in this, and that meant I had to take matters into my own hands.