(I dont love the ending, but its something)

PS Im also looking for new story ideas, so PM me.

The Escape

I was sentenced to 25 years for aggravate assault and drug trafficking.  I was 18 when I committed my crimes, and I thought I was a bad ass.  I had been running with a gang for a few years and just got caught up in some bad stuff.  Now I was 30 and in a maximum security prison.  The only real way to survive in prison was to be part of a gang, so I continued to run with the gang.

I was a pretty scary looking guy, so no one really ever messed with me.  I stood 6’4’’ tall, and was well muscled at 245 lbs.  I was covered in tattoos, and had a shaved head.  I made it a point to kick the shit out of one or two people a year, just to keep my reputation. 

I had a girl on the outside, Im not sure if she was faithful to me, she told me she was, but who knows. I heard rumors from people on the outside that she was messing around with one of my friend, but who is to know.  I really couldn’t blame her.  It had been 12 years since I was locked up, and I was only half way thru my sentence. 

I really didn’t have any room to judge her either.  Im not gay, but after being locked up for so long, you sometimes just have to have sex.  It wasn’t a secret, people knew about it.  I would usually find some weak guy and make him my bitch.  Like I said, I was pretty tough looking, and usually the people who I beat up were the guys who talked shit about me. 

I don’t know how it happened, the nurse said that I just had the genetics for it, but around October of my 12^th year behind bars, I got knocked up.  I had been messing around with this guy, one time I let him fuck me, and I ended up getting pregnant, go figure. 

The prison didn’t provide much medical care.  I got a monthly check up, but that was it.  Because there weren’t any other pregnant men at my prison, they didn’t even provide paternity prison suits.  I was forced to just get bigger jump suits as I got bigger. 

Yeah I was a freak, but being the tough guy lead to people pretty much leaving me alone.  My gang buddies didn’t want to associate with me, but at least they didn’t fuck with me.  I pretty much kept to myself throughout my pregnancy. 

Because of the violent nature of my crime, I was forced to serve 23 hours in my cell with an hour of rec time every day.  I spent a lot of time in my cell.  It was there that I came up with a plan to escape.  You would have thought that in 12 years Id have the idea to escape, but what really got me to want to go was that I was being forced to give my baby up when it was born. 

I didn’t have any family that would be able to take the baby, and being in prison I wouldn’t be able to take care of it.  I decided that escape was the only way.  I mean, what did I really have to lose.

My plans was simple, maybe too simple.  The prison was old an my cell was on the first floor.  I spent 6 months chipping away at the bars on my window.  During my hour of rec time, I would spend the time at the fence slowly cutting the wires at the base of the fence. 

I finally got the bars in a good enough position to bust out in May, my 8^th month.  It was good because the pregnancy was starting to take its toll on me.  I had gained about 45 lbs, so I was close to 300 lbs now.  My belly had really exploded and looked huge. 

We didn’t get served that much food in prison, and they didn’t make any exceptions for me just because I was knocked up.  Those people who did talk to me always commented on how big I was getting.  To tell you the truth, I was getting a little nervous.  I didn’t think I should have gained so much weight so fast.  Guys would come by, pat my gut, and ask if I was having an 8 year old.  Slightly concerned, I asked the nurse at one of my last checkups about the baby’s weight.  She glossed over it, and told me not to worry, it was only one baby, as far as she could tell.  Looking at her degree on the wall from the local community college, I had my doubts.

My cell was hot all the time, so I spent most of my time in boxers laying on my bed or pacing around.  My gut was nice and round and heavy, but looked crazy as most of the tattoos I had were all stretched out and looked weird. 

One night a thunderstorm was coming. You could feel it in the air, and the guards, who got to listen to the weather, were all talking about the storm.  We were supposed to have a good amount of rain.  Just as it was lights off, I went to work removing the bars from my window.  I had done a pretty good job of it.

When I had them all removed, I got up on my desk and quietly tried to get out the window.  I got my wide torso thru the windows, but I got stuck at my belly.  The baby was the reason I needed to get out, it couldn’t be the reason I stayed trapped in here.  I sucked in my belly as much as I could, and was able to get most of it through.  I prayed I wasn’t causing harm to my kid, but I felt it squirm inside my belly as it was being forced through the window.

After a bit of a struggle, I got myself out the window and fell to the ground.  Luckily I landed on my feet and made my way to the fence. At this point he rain was coming down like mad.  I had to dodge the patrol lights that circled the yard.  I finally made it to the fence and began digging. I had to dig enough of a ditch below the fence that I could fit through.  I was on all fours, in boxers digging in the rain.  The kid must have been pissed at all this exercise, cause I got a huge kick to the side. 

After working for a good half an hour, I was exhausted.  I was starting to rethink the plan, but knew Id be in the same amount of trouble if I gave up, as if I got caught, so I kept digging.  The ground turned to mud as I dug a hole deep enough to get both me and my belly through.  Now was the hard part.

I had about a mile to run to get off the prison grounds, then another few miles before I got to the nearest town, where I had friends waiting for me.  I pulled myself off the ground and got up, I was hit with a bad pain in my back.  I stood there, trying to catch my breath, as the pain moved around my back to my front.  Could I be having a contraction?  Maybe this was just false labor brought on my all the activity.

After I caught my breath, I turned around and looked at the prison.  There was no way I was going back there, in labor or not, I had to get to the town.  The woods were a couple hundred yards away.  I began running to them, but was a lot slower than I expected.  I couldn’t run like I used to, the baby had moved deeper into my hips causing me to waddle more than run.  I couldn’t get the speed I wanted, on top of that , my back was hurting something awful.

Half way to the woods, I felt another pain in my back.  This time, again, it rolled around to my belly, and down my legs.  This time I knew it, I was in labor.  Gritting my teeth, I waddled fast through the contraction.  All I could think about was getting to my friend’s apartment and getting this kid out of me.

For the next 2 hours I made my way through the woods.  Normally I would have been able to make it to the town in 45 minutes, but my labor came strong and fast.  At this point, I wasn’t moving very fast, my contractions were a little less than 10 minutes apart, and my main objective was not screaming out in pain.

I hadn’t learned any childbirth techniques, and didn’t really know what to expect from having a baby, so I couldn’t tell you what was happening.  I didn’t even know if my water had broken, as it was so rainy.  All I know is that labor sucks.

I was able to slowly walk thru the forest, making my way to the town.  Every few minutes, Id stop, in the rain, and lean against a tree for support as I dealt with a contraction.  I felt this horrible pressure in my hips as the baby made its way down.  I couldn’t imagine how this thing that had been growing so big inside of me for months was going to fit out my ass. 

Im not sure if I was thankful that I felt like I needed to push before the sun came up or not.  On the plus side, I’d give birth before morning, so I could run faster, on the negative, I really didn’t want to deal with this now.  I had found a small valley that was pretty well obstructed from view.  It was wet from all the rain, but I lay myself down slowly on the wet leaves. 

I had seen enough movies to know that in order to give birth, I needed to be on my back with my boxers off.  My knees instinctively came apart, and I grabbed at my knees with the next contraction to push.  I think I said labor sucks, well pushing sucks even more.

I pushed for must have been an hour and didn’t feel any different.  My belly remained where it was, and the baby didn’t seem like it had moved any closer to the world.  I was starting to get nervous that maybe the baby was too big.   I tried squatting, on all fours, standing, but nothing helped.

As the sun came up, I got hopeless, I thought I was surely going to die out here, trying to push this monster baby out of me.   Just then, I started to hear it, voices.  I did my best to move into a place with many braches.  This was a struggle, not only pregnant, but in the middle of pushing out a baby.

I did the best I could, and tried to keep my noise level down.  It was hard, as my body continued to want to push.  I involuntarily continued pushing the baby out.  Just as the voices were getting louder, I felt a shift, finally the baby was moving down. 

I pushed and pushed, all while trying to remain silent.  The voices began to quite down, the police were moving farther away!  Just as I was sure they were far enough away, I let out a deep grunt with one final push.  The baby was delivered free, in the woods.