I’m more than a prophecy!

Kristina’s POV I’m Kristina. I’m a teacher - that’s the bit people are usually cool with. Until I say I work with inmates that is, then they usually freak out. I love my job and I don’t care what anyone says. I work at Hartley Well Prison - an institution for prisoners in the last stage of their sentence who are deemed ready and safe to be slowly reintroduced into society. It is my job as a teacher, to make sure they have all the employability and life skills they need to succeed, but mainly, to live a crime free life and to hopefully reduce the rates of reoffending. It’s an exhausting, but extremely rewarding job. My story starts on a sunny summer day, just after lunch. I was taking 3 of my oldest learners out in the community. Hartley Well is a small town and people do their best to help our inmates, often offering them little volunteer jobs. They help my learners to mix with people from “the outside” as a last step of their rehabilitation, enabling them to join straight with the community upon release. Today, I am walking Martin, Jeff and Ahmed down to the post office. I trust them completely, within the six months of working with them, they have never made me feel scared or inappropriate. They are desperate to be released and in my biased opinion working very hard to avoid repeating their past mistakes. The post office is about 1.5miles from the prison, down a steep hill and past a well settled residential area. The first time I walked this trio down, I was worried, given the nature of their offences. But I kept reminding myself, they have worked hard not to be those people anymore, and I was right. Especially Martin - he was a getting released in the next month or so. We walked past the playground, saying hello to the dog waiting outside. Past the pub, I could always see the longing in the trio’s eyes, but never once did they give me a hard time. Jeff and Ahmed were trying to wind each other up - daily sport between them, trying to get a rise out of one another, about who’s going to be the slowest one sorting mail today and who’s going to end up doing everyone’s washing. Martin was walking at the front and seemed to be really on edge, twitching and jumping a lot. I called him back to us, asking if he was ok. “Just hot. This weather really isn’t my cup of tea” he said, with beads of sweat running down his face. “I forget you’re a night owl” I said, laughing. The laugh died on my lips quickly, as I saw a young family walking in the other direction. Martins face got all screwed up, with the sweating worse than ever, and the look of a hungry predator on his face. He took off towards the young girl- she couldn’t have been more than twelve. I’ve tried to stop him, but Martin pushed me to the side, running after her. “Martin, stop! No! Ladies watch out!” I shouted, but it was no use. It was almost as if Martin wasn’t there anymore. I have never seen him like this, however I have read his file and I should’ve been prepared for something like this. I have always struggled to understand how this funny and kind man could be the same person who killed his girlfriend in cold blood. The officer who found them, described him as a predator with the look of a hungry animal. s**t. This wasn’t supposed to happen. By the time they come to me, the inmates are deemed safe by their therapists and key workers. I pressed the alarm button as Jeff and Ahmed run past me, almost growling in frustration. Ahmed got hold off Martin first, but he didn’t manage to stop his momentum. When Jeff caught up with them, he pretty much rugby tackled Martin to the ground, swearing loudly. Ahmed sat on Martin’s back, pinning his arms to his side, while Jeff came to check on me. I pushed him to the side, telling him to stay with Ahmed and wait for help, while I run to check on the family. The young girl was crying in her mothers arms, in absolute hysterics - while her mum looked pale in shock, her eyes huge with horror. “Ma’m, are you ok? He didn’t get you, did he? I am so sorry this has happened- we are waiting for the guard to catch up with us and then will be out of your way.” “We’re ok. Physically, anyway” the lady added, barely able to talk with how hard her voice was shaking. “The boys are very protective of me and each other, there is nothing more to be worried about now” I said, trying to calm her down, but deep down knowing that it would be no use. The guard got back to us within a couple of minutes, Martin was still trashing and almost growling, looking like an animal ready to attack. “He’s not an animal” I reprimand myself in my head, but yet, that’s the best description there is. I checked on the family one more time, took her contact details and after ensuring she was ok for the time being, returned back to prison to deal with whatever just happened, reliving the whole incident in my head. What has just happened? One minute Martin was joking around, the next he was an attacking monster. Is this going to set his release back? Should it set his release back? Am I going to get fired? What happened to make him act out like this? Did I say something? Did I miss a trigger? Why now and not before? He was doing so well in his recovery and now this. I exhaled as I walked through security and nearly jumped out of my skin, as someone yelled: “Kristina! My office. Now!”