You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison

I couldn't get those agonizing screams out of my head.

I can’t think of a more heart-wrenching sound. I couldn’t help but feel for the poor boy and fight back my own tears as he leaned over his dead friend, shaking him violently and crying out his name. I remember the younger one scared out of his mind, being comforted by his friend on our initial departure into this place.

“Lee… Lee! I-It’s okay, you’re ok-kay, Get up! Come on! Remember? You said you’d never leave me, that we’d get through this together. Right? Lee… Lee?! You have to get up now!” His pleading rang through the room, slicing through the sounds of an alarm newly ringing about the air.

The smaller Asian fellow buried his face into the older one’s broken body, drenching himself in his blood. I saw him take his thumb and wipe the small blood trail dripping from his partly opened mouth. He was bawling his eyes out, leaving tiny droplets of clear crimson running down his tan face. My examination was quickly interrupted by Gerard’s orders, and I couldn’t help but comply. Soon enough, both Mikey and I were harshly moved back to our cell, Gerard and a guard right at our heels.

Mikey didn’t interact with anyone for the rest of the day, or the day after. He wouldn’t even look at Gerard. I can’t condone what he did, but I know he had his reasons. Drastic measures had to be taken, and I guess Gerard must have seen an opportunity to show his younger brother how people- how Bob really was. But I still sympathize with the kid. He was brought up in a nice environment up until the six months prior to his conviction, and he refused to accept the fact that there were bad people in this world.

I continued to sift through these thoughts, unable to fall asleep once again. Not like there’s anything better to do at two in the morning. It was almost pitch black in our cell, and for once it was quiet. Mikey laid passed out on his bed; he’d fallen asleep against his tear-stained pillow. He looked a little more relaxed, but that didn’t mean we weren’t still worried about him. Gerard had just finished his millionth piss of the day- I swear he pees like thirty times a day.

My commissary money finally came in yesterday; at least my grandparents hadn’t abandoned me. Gerard had taken me to commissary to get some items of my own earlier today, and I ended up getting myself a few books, a flashlight, some toothpaste and soap. It felt so good to brush my teeth again with something other than water. You really start to notice the importance of it after going a month without.

I was in the middle of reading one of my new books- Confessions of a Murder Suspect. I’d always loved James Patterson as an author, each of his books just as gripping as the last. I had just finished chapter three when I heard Gerard clear his throat.

“Frank, listen.” He sounded really close; I turned my head to see he was leaning against my bunk. Shit, when did he get there?

“Look… I’m really worried about Mikey.” He whispered, as if he could hear us.

“No shit, we both are. Christ Gerard what were you thinking?”

“He needed- He needed to know.” I glared at him and he stumbled over his words, trying to stay calm and quiet. I folded the page in my book and set it down beside me, giving him my full attention.

“A sixteen year old needed to witness his ‘friend’ murder an innocent person in cold fucking blood?”

“He wouldn’t listen to us! What else was I supposed to do? I saw an opportunity and I took it. Would you have done any different?”

“The kid was fucking terrified ten seconds into the beating, he didn’t need to watch the poor man die!”

“That’s the problem, Frank! He’s just a kid. A fucking-“ He cut himself off, trying to keep his voice a harsh whisper. “Wait, you’re the one that told me he shut his eyes in the first place! You wanted to traumatize him just as much as I did.” Shit. I looked at his face and saw we both shared the same thought. His face fell at his own words, like he was disgusted with himself.

We both fell silent for several moments, each trying to figure out what to say next.

“He needed to learn. He didn’t need to be psychologically scarred for life, Gerard!”

“Yeah, well that’s just how the fucking cookie crumbles around here. It’s not all shits and giggles, Frank. We all have our demons.”

He sighed and turned to look at his brother, who has started to stir slightly.

“I know.” I slammed my head back on my pillow, hoping he would just go away.

“Look, I’m calling my lawyer in the morning. He needs to get out of here. I know he has a great shot at appeal, if we can just write a letter and talk to her-“

“Where is he supposed to go? If he gets out what is he supposed to do? It’s not like things are gonna be normal for him.” I interrupted, sitting back up.

“Our parent’s will take him back, he’s a good kid. They know this isn’t his fault. They have to know…” Doubt clouded his vision, but he quickly blinked it away and replaced it with a more comforting look.

“Mikey’s never mentioned them.” I quietly added.

“Really? That’s surprising. I mean he already practically spilled his life story to the first person he could find in this dump, why hide something as simple as our parents disowning us because of my habit.” Ouch. I winced internally at his harsh words. Surely he didn’t really mean it. Right?

“While we’re on the topic of life story’s-“ Fuck. I knew exactly where he was going with this.

“Don’t-“

“Why not? As ironic as your tale was, that’s all it is. A tale. You’re whole story is bullshit. You’re a good liar, though. Credit where it’s due, bro. I mean I almost fell for it.”

“You know nothing.” I growled, crushing my eyes together and throwing my sheet over my shoulder. I smushed my face back into the pillow; I wanted nothing more than for him to just go away.

“Ah, but you know everything, Frank. It’s my turn now. You can’t hide from this. Shit, you can sleep in a coffin, but the past ain’t through with you.” I continued to blatantly ignore him.

Oddly enough, I felt his weight shift from my bed- leaving only myself and my thoughts to dwell on the idea that maybe he’d given up and dropped this preposterous argument. Finally. I relaxed back into my pillow, until I felt a harsh whisper cloud my eardrum.

“What. Did. You. Do.”

I turned around to face him, my eyes locked onto his with a cold, dead stare. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me freak out; whether from anger, or sadness, or show him any other emotion that would exploit weakness. I shifted my arms under me and pushed myself upright, never breaking eye contact with those big, hazel eyes of his. I thrust a fist into his black, oily hair and grabbed a handful, forcing his head upwards. I rested my forehead on his, our lips centimeters away from each other. If I weren’t extremely pissed off, I’d ram my tongue down his throat. Shit, maybe I will.

“You wanna know what I did, huh? Fine. I bought a pistol off the streets, and I blew my mother’s fucking brains out alllllll over the fucking wall.” I tugged on his hair harder as I finished my sentence, searching his face for any hint of a reaction from his face.

“No. You didn’t.” He spoke calmly, his voice fully composed as if he were in the middle of an office meeting. I released my grip, scoffing at his attitude- or lack thereof.

He turned and looked at Mikey, who had started to toss in his bed slightly. I heard him whimper softly, before turning back to his left side. He was teetering very close to the edge of the bed. Nope, scratch that. He was no longer on the bed.

I heard him hit the concrete with a loud *smack* and snickered at the sight. I turned Gerard towards his brother. Shit, He muttered under his breath. He took half a step towards him, and in that tenth of a second, I suddenly grew a pair and grabbed the collar of his orange shirt, practically choking him, keeping him beside my bed. If he could stay so calm and cheeky, so could I.

I wrapped my hand around the back of Gerard’s head, pulling him closer to me as I planted a kiss on his forehead. He wiped it off and I handed him my flashlight, nudging him towards his brother.

“Fuck, gross. ” He muttered, wiping it away.

“That’s not what you said a few days ago.” He caught his breath in his throat, like he wanted to say something. Whatever it was, he swallowed the words.

“Shut up.” He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes and turning away from me.

“Oh, you love it.” I smirked. “Now, wake him up. He’s probably having a nightmare, and either way you should make sure he didn’t split his head open. Not even I could sleep through that.”

“This isn’t over.” He groaned as he turned towards Mikey. He sank to his knees and gently ran his own hand through Mikey’s hair, whispering his name and trying to urge him awake.

“I’m sorry, which part. The fight or the kiss?” I snickered and turned back to face the wall, shifting a bit closer to it than I usually do. If Mikey can fall out of a bed, I can too- and it would hurt a hell of a lot more from this height.

With my mind still racing and my emotions a hot mess, I eventually settled into a troubled sleep.

Notes

Finally, another update! Big thanks to my bestie Morgan, without her this chapter would've only been half as long. Love you girl <3 Big things coming soon, my lovely Killjoy's, I promise. Thank you so much for sticking with us :*

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Xoxo
-Hazel