As one cell door opens, another slams shut - Part 2 - No turning back

An accurate & recent account of my incarceration in an American Prison

Part 2 - No turning back

Indeed El Paso had a flavor to life all of its own. A zest and bustle to their culture that I'd not personally experienced in any other US State I'd visited during my near two years there.

Even though I was merely observing as I passed through, yet for the first time since landing on American soil I felt foreign to what I was seeing out of the car window. Of course in reality being a native English woman living in the States meant I'd been a foreigner no matter which US State I'd visited. However, it had never felt quite that way to me.

In my past I'd visited parts of North Africa, various cities in Spain, Greece, Germany and other EU countries. To the greater part I'd always felt somewhat alien to their culture and way of life. I guess in part not helped by the language barrier of course but in truth the culture in these places was indeed considerably different to what i'd grown up with in England. Not worse nor better, just different. Yet in comparison, living in the US and visiting the various States there had been and felt different to other past foreign experiences. Generally life runs almost identical to how it does back home in England, making it familiar enough for me to not feel overly homesick.
Shopping in the stores generally looks and feels the same with familiar high street names and brands as well as similar looking shopping malls. Nightlife, eating out and business runs almost identical even if at times it can look a little different on the surface. Of course it also helped me that the majority of Americans are English speaking... (Even if it's not quite the Queens English! lol !!)

Seduced and somewhat ensnared

I guess we were both a little enamored with the vibrancy of El Paso as we passed through; our attention not fully on the road ahead as it should have been but instead on the bustle of life going on around us. Subsequently we hadn't noticed the interstate ahead of us about to split into two very distinct and separate destinations. Already being right up on top of it Dahlia was forced to make a snap decision as to which route to take. Quickly she took the right hand destination, neither of us feeling the slightest twinge of concern about it, as if indeed we had taken a wrong turn, then we'd simply drive until we could turn back right? WRONG!

The route we had taken began to rise up onto an overpass interchange. As I looked across the city I thought to myself how it looked almost as arid as back home in Tucson and so turned my head to comment on it to Dahlia. She was white as a sheet! The look of haunted terror she wore on her face was disturbingly similar to the look she'd had the day she'd received her premonition or vision. With an instant sense of foreboding my blood ran cold causing me to tentatively asked her; "Hun, what's wrong?" I sensed that I was not going to like the answer.

Part open mouthed and caught up in a muted silence she looked as if she was in horrified disbelief as she pointed toward the road rising up ahead. As my head began to turn in response my mind suddenly began to fill with the horrible possibilities of what I might see. Maybe an awful car crash? A dead bear or even body in the road? Or maybe a huge police chase and arrest! I didn't know what to expected but personally i'd have taken any of them in exchange for what I was about to see!

Just about 1500 meters ahead the words 'Welcome to Mexico' loomed down on us from an overhead sign that sat above a border check point, which was filled heavily with traffic having their credentials verified.

To us both, the words may as well have read "A World Of Trouble Ahead, You Messed Up!" I immediately cried out "Oh shit, tell me no!"

Looking exasperated yet doing her best to retain her composure for my sake Dahlia reassured; "Okay, let's not worry just yet, I'm sure there must be a point in the road for people to turn back around, we can't be the only ones to make a wrong turn!"

Under normal circumstances slipping over the border into Mexico wouldn't be much of an issue, as one could simply drive through into Mexico and then come back around and into the States again. However, for me it most certainly was an issue, as the agreement for my staying in the States was not to leave until my asylum application and visa extension request had been fully finalized.
If I was to leave the States now before this had happened I could face either being deported or not even being allowed back across the Mexican border to re-enter the States at all for violating the terms of agreement.

The road we were driving on was a one way, straight thoroughfare providing no way of exit nor cut-ins for doing a U-turn. Even so we were desperately looking for a way to turn around before reaching the check-point. Sadly for us, border control had already thought of that one, as not only was the route one way but there were also huge concrete road blocks in the road designed to make it difficult to re-enter illegally into the States from the Mexican side.

There and back again (well, almost!)

Entry into Mexico wasn't going to be questioned, but trying to re-enter the US would be. Our only hope now was that clearly we were not Mexican, so on re-entry maybe they might only ask for Dahlia's documents and not mine.
Dahlia then suggested that I should simply tell them our situation once we reached the checkpoint, but I panicked and said 'no way', as they might cause a fuss or be awkward with us and I'd miss my surgery if they held us up for violating my agreement by trying to visit Mexico, which is how it would look. Better if we stayed silent and took the chance of slipping out of the US and right back in again.

As suspected we entered into Mexico without any problem. I pretended to be asleep and I could hear Dahlia talking in a very casual manner to the Mexican officer.

Now in Mexico it was indeed officially illegal for me to re-enter the States, which felt sickening inside. We only drove into Mexico far enough to find a cross road which allowed us to turn around and back onto the ramp which led to the US check point. My heart was thumping in my chest and Dahlia looked decidedly uncomfortable also. Every inch that we drew closer to that US check point I felt more and more short of air and panicky. As we approached I once again slipped my sunglasses over my eyes and made out as if asleep.

I heard Dahlia's window slide down and a young sounding Hispanic officer rudely ask "What's your citizenship?". To which Dahlia replied 'American sir!'
The officer replied "Give me your drivers licence!" Which she did.

Once the officer had viewed her ID he moved around and looked into the vehicle. My eyes were tight closed but my mind was screaming 'shit, shit'! Dahlia had no choice but to announce that I was British but had an application accepted for review for US Visa extension under asylum (that's another equally harrowing set of situations we went through).

He instructed Dahlia to wake me up and once sat up asked me to step out of the vehicle. Dahlia informed him that I was on my way for life changing, even life saving surgery and he just walked over to me and led me into the office across the way. I turned to dahlia, looked at her and whispered... "It's over, I'm screwed!"

Hitting a brick wall at 100mph

On entering the roadside office and holding jail I nervously looked around as I followed the officer in. He immediately held out his hand and stated "stop! Go no further beyond this point!" then pointed to a long hard wooden slatted bench that spanned the length of the office, around 25ft or so. He told me to sit down on it and not move beyond the point of the office tables and bench area unless given an order to do so. He then asked if I'd understood his instruction?
I thought to myself "Gosh... does anyone know how to spell over the top?" This was to be my first sour taste of American Federal serious overkill, with many many more incidents to come!

Dahlia had been locking the car and so walked in slightly after us. Without knowing what had just been instructed she ventured ever so slightly past the computer table area. Well, to be frank, the attitude of the young officer stunk in the way he addressed her; "Back across to the bench !" he commanded. You'd honestly have thought she'd pulled a gun out by the tone he'd used!

He was a keen young Hispanic officer no older than 22 but looked more like 19. Dahlia had not understood the problem and looked at him blankly, raising her hands in confusion. Once again he gave her some more attitude and pointed to the bench. Quickly I took her hand and said "sit here hun, we aren't allowed past that point". It all added up to a very scary and stressful situation indeed!

Just in front of the bench where we were seated and running along the whole length of the office were several computer work stations for processing potential 'detainees'. He told me to sit in front of one of the stations, so we shuffled along a few feet. While he tapped away on his keyboard we gazed around the office. There were three other older officers behind him busily working and sharing overly macho banter among themselves about the mornings exploits. Occasionally one would all but jog over to the other and 'high five'
him for how he'd captured an illegal immigrant.

Each wore a weapons belt with a baton and pistol holstered on the hip, as well as handcuffs and radio clipped on there too. The way they strutted showed very clearly that they enjoyed their power and position maybe a little too much. During my time in that office I witnessed the processing of around 12 Mexican Immigrants both men, women and teens who'd all tried to slip over the border and into America to improve their lives. While I understand the need to police the borders I nevertheless felt sickened by the lack of respect or understanding that these were not true criminals, but ordinary people making a bid to better their lives, yet we were all treated by these officers as if we were.

After around five minutes of looking on the PC the young officer said to me "Where did you say you entered into the States? Are you absolutely sure it was from Vegas?"
"Yes of course I'm sure!" I replied for the the first time expressing some annoyance. "It's stamped on my passport!"

Again looking down, he tapped away at his computer one finger at a time for another five or ten minutes before declaring that he was just checking other airports just in case. Feeling highly stressed I had to hold myself back from shouting at him! My god did he think I was so dumb that maybe I didn't know which cities I'd visited or which city I'd entered into the States in? Bloody ridiculous!

"Ahhh okay, here you are yes". He announced.
"Oh, fancy that!" I thought to myself sarcastically.

It then took him another 20 to 30 minutes to find the asylum and visa application and where it was currently up too in being processed.
Several phone calls later he came around to our side of the table and informed me that on exiting the US I had directly violated the conditions of agreement and will need to go before the local judge for a decision as to what will happen next. My heart sank and I immediately felt my eyes fill with tears.

"No no please, I did not purposefully violate anything, we simply took the wrong road is all! Sir, my home, my partner, my friends, job and life are here!

Dahlia stood up "Sir, be reasonable, it was a simple error of not watching the road! Please, you truly don't know what this lady has been through already, I beg you to try to do more not to have to put her through this!"

With zero interest and even less compassion he didn't so much as blink or even meet our eyes before replying;
"And that's why she'll go before the judge!"

Dahlia, now in a panic immediately stood up again and came back with;
"Yes, but that delay will cost her her surgery sir, don't you see? She has her surgery in less than two days and has waited all her life for this and gone through a living hell to get here, please, there must be a way that she can attend her surgery and then appear to an appeal court?

Again void of any humanity or concern he came back with "No, there is nothing in place for that! Now sit back down!"

"So what happens now sir?" I tentatively asked.

Somewhat Matter-of-factly he turning to me and stated that I'd be held under arrest and kept in a cell there until a prison bus could be arranged to escort me to El Paso Detainee Processing Center. There I'll be held until seeing the judge and a decision is made.

"Bloody arrested? How long will that be for?" I asked, now in utter disbelief!

"It's impossible to say" came the response.

Dahlia, who's patience was now wearing a little thin spoke up again...

"Well could you try? Give us some kind of estimate or an 'on-average' please? Myself and Abigail are hundreds of miles away from home. I need to know whether it's worth my while getting a hotel here in El Paso or not while all this is going on? Is there anyone we can appeal too as she is about to lose major surgery here, not to mention thousands of dollars?!"
My surgery was not simply SRS/GRS or cosmetic (not that I believe any SRS/GRS is simply cosmetic!) but was also to sort out painful internal complications between testicular and ovarian tissues that often left me doubled up in agony. So losing this surgery for me didn't just mean a delay in corrective affirming surgery but spelled months, maybe a couple of years of extended discomfort too. The gravity of the situations was now beginning to crush down on me and I could feel my body shaking in literal shock.

Finally, the officer informed us that typically we were looking at around two to three days before seeing a judge, at which point a decision was to be made whether I was allowed back into the States or to be sent home to England. So in essence I was to lose my surgery for the sake of potentially 2 days delay and hold up! Or at least that's how we saw it at that time, as we felt sure any judge would release me with a warning to be more careful.

Dahlia was told to go get some things I might need and so came back in from the car with some clothes, toothbrush and electric shaver, as I still get a few hairs on my chin area to the left that are still being treated.

The officer pointed at the clothing and said "You won't need any of that, all you'll need is a couple of changes of underwear and a bra."
Dahlia then asked: "Well, what about the rest?" Which he replied "No, there's no point bringing the razor, they will give you a safety razor there if one's needed!"

"What about my phone? Am I allowed to use and take that?"

"No phones are allowed but you can sure take it in with you as they'll separate it from the battery and store it until you're release. There'll be a payphone there you can use." He continued "You'll also only be allowed to take the clothes you are wearing other than the underwear, as you'll be provided with a uniform!"

"A uniform?" I replied in shock! "Sounds more like bloody prison to me than just being detained to see the judge!"
"Yes, it's a high security detention center!" He replied almost smugly.

On hearing this I fell back down on to the bench in utter disbelief. I'd never so much as had detention in school let alone serving detention as if a criminal in a high security prison, likely filled with trans hostile Hispanic inmates and guards. To say I was scared would have been a huge understatement and it took me all of my focus skills and no small amount of controlled breathing to keep the panic in control.

I wasn't the only one panicking either, Dahlia was now very worked up, emotional and crying over all of this. She knew how nervous and shy I could be at the best of times and how I'd already endured so much over recent years, what with dysphoria and family issues regarding transition etc. This was going to be very mentally challenging for me to say the very least, but I knew I'd have to be as strong as I possibly could be.
No easy task when one considers that not only had I already suffered two major nervous breakdowns through gender related trauma and dysphoria, but was also someone not accustom to having to deal with the law, being arrested, prison cells, inmates or sentences. Not to forget also the added difficulty of being transgender in prison in one of the worst prisons to be transgender in! Then there was the added emotional trauma of just having had my surgery snatched away out of my grasp moments before being made whole!

How I remained in tact God only knows and I guessed it was 99% Adrenalin and a little survival instinct. I was utterly afraid, completely devastated and totally panic stricken!

With this he turned to Dahlia and pointing directly at her said "There's nothing more you can do for her here, so you can beat it!" At this Dahlia looked utterly shocked, as did I!

With this I turned and saw tears streaming down Dahlia's face and heard her ask "Can I please give her a goodbye hug?" With utter cold contempt his emotionless reply was a stark and bold "No!"

She was then escorted out and away and back to our car, leaving me alone and very afraid. It took all of my strength not to jump up and run out after her. She gazed back at me through the window with a look that showed how tied and helpless to protect me she now felt.

I stood there with tears now cascade down my cheeks as I watched her drive away. Never had I felt quite so alone and I suddenly realized at that very moment that the premonition she'd been given truly had come to pass...

As the vision foretold, in essence I truly had been killed off, both through losing her, my home and friends and most certainly by losing my surgery which I'd only just mentally survived reaching anyway through years of gender dysphoria!

Likewise she truly had been trapped in the car alone, paralyzed from being able to climb out and help or rescue me. Unable to free herself to protect me as she had always done for well over two years. Our journey truly had come to a temporary but deadly, violent and sudden stop, just as the symbolic and seemingly prophetic vision had indicated and warned!

I decided to see the vision as a way to inform us that God knows of the troubles we were about to face and not only cared enough to warn us, but in doing so gave me some strength and comfort in knowing it was all in hand and I was not really alone.