You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison

“Ah, yes. Mr. Iero. Please, have a seat.” I slowly shut the door, hearing it click behind me. A middle-aged woman sat in the metal chair on the opposite side of the table. She looked friendly, a sweet face with soft, brown curls that looked like they would bounce if she took a step. I glanced to my left and saw another guard standing on her right, leaning against the wall. He was young and buff; his head looked disproportionately small compared to the rest of his muscular body, like he had taken one too many shots of steroids.

“I don’t really have a choice, now do I?” I commented quietly. She didn’t respond, though I’m not sure if she didn’t hear me, or if she just didn’t care.

“So, how has your day been so far?” She started off, a sincere smile curling on her lips.

“Fine.” Fine. I’ve repeated these same four letters far too many times in my life. The one lie that no one gets tired of hearing, because no one think’s anything of it. Someone says ‘Fine’ and you don’t think twice about it. We associate this word with synonyms like ‘Good’ and ‘Great’, but if you really pay attention, you’ll notice that it’s drastically changed over the years. Fine has morphed from a positive response to one filled with negativity. A lie to mask our true feelings. A word that we use to hide all the pain and misery we hold inside- like a cracked bottle filled to brim with emotion, just begging to be released. But we keep all our pain locked away, using words like ‘Fine’ and ‘Okay’ as a sealant to fill the cracks. But a broken bottle can only hold so much.

“…about yesterday. Mr. Iero… Frank?” Her soothing words broke me from my train of thought, snapping me back into reality.

“Hm? I-I’m sorry what?”

“Here, I’ll start again. I know neither of us want to be here, and I’m certain you already know what they want me to ask you so let’s just cut to the chase, shall we?”

“Whatever.” I mumbled, breaking out into a coughing fit.

I really didn’t need to be doing this, all I wanted to do was curl up in my bed and melt away, become a shadow in the walls. I’ve gone my whole stay here without a cigarette, and even though I didn’t do it often- it still fucking sucked quitting cold turkey.

She waited patiently for my coughing to subside, to which I muttered out an apology.

“That’s quite alright. Now, what exactly did you witness?” She pried, innocence creeping into her voice. No wonder there was such a buff guard here, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself if I decided to grab her neck and choke her into oblivion.

“Well, let’s see. I witnessed a pedophile murder another inmate in cold blood because he wanted to watch TV. I witnessed his brains coat the cement wall and flinched as his neck snapped under Bob’s hand. I witnessed the child he was watching after blubber and sob into his cold, dead carcass- and I witnessed the blood seep into his uniform as he prayed and pleaded for his dead friend to come back to life.”

Her mouth hung open slightly, no words forming on her lips. She was speechless; I’d succeeded in my goal.

She still hadn’t spoken thirty seconds after I’d finished my initial statement, so I continued. “And then, I witnessed the same bastard who killed him walk freely in the yard two days later. So I’m gonna guess that this either happens way too frequently for you guys to even take any action anymore, or that Bob has this fucked up place wrapped around his finger like a wedding ring.”

She cleared her throat, scribbling something in her notepad. She was still clearly shocked at my words- as was I. There was something in my voice, that even I realized wasn’t okay. A tone I’d never uttered before, not even to my father as I watched the life slowly fade from his eyes. And it terrified me.

“I’m sorry, that was-“

“No! No, it’s okay..“ She trailed off, taking a sip of her coffee. I noticed a brown ring stained the table as she lifted the black mug.

“Miss Evans, do you need a moment?” This time, it was the guard who’d spoken.

“I said I’m fine!” She barked. She sat for a few seconds before recollecting herself, taking a few deep breaths. There’s that word again.

“So, Frank.. Since the incident, have you had any suicidal thoughts?”

“Nope.” I simply stated, popping the ‘P’. I leaned back in my chair.

“Revenge?”

“Only on two people, and they’re already dead, so..” Shit.

“Yes, I heard about that. Well, and it’s also in your file of course. Why don’t you tell me your side of the story?”

“How about I don’t?”

“Frank, you-“

“Stop.” I cut her off, shifting my attention to the guard. “Isn’t there some sort of patient confidentiality or something still in play? Does he really need to be here?”

“Yes, Frank. He does.”

“Can’t you request another bodyguard or something?”

“You don’t get that choice.” He growled, shifting his weight from against the wall to both of his feet.

“No, but I do. Who-“

“Ray.” I interrupted, staring at the floor. I didn’t plan on looking up until he arrived.

I heard a soft beep followed by the cop on steroids requesting Toro by name to out room. I shouldn’t be doing this. I really shouldn’t be doing this.

Don’t break down, don’t give in, don’t tell them too much. Both Gerard and Kellin’s words flashed in my head. Isn’t that exactly what I was doing?

My head shot up as a ‘fro full of curls crept in the room. I flashed a small smile and watched as Steroids stormed out of the room and Ray took his place against the wall. I noticed him glance at my neck, and offer a look of amusement, or approval- maybe a mix of the two. Either way, it unsettled me not knowing what lay inked next to my flawless scorpion tattoo. I swear to God if he drew a penis on my neck, I’m going to fucking murder him.

“You rang?” Ray smirked, chewing on a stick of gum. He offered one to Miss Evans, but she politely declined.

“Ok, Frank. Can I continue?” I nodded my head quickly, gnawing the fingernails on my right hand into oblivion.

“Now, where was I.” She sifted through her notes, gliding her pointer finger over the crisp, cool pages until she landed on what I assume she was looking for. Of course I already knew what she was going to say.

“Frank, I know why you’re here.”

“Good for you.” I bitterly responded.

“You shot your mother-“

“She didn’t protect me.”

“You murdered your father-“

“He deserved it.” I retorted. It was fun cutting her off; I enjoyed seeing her grow more and more irritated.

“You chopped off his genitals-.”

“It was annoying me.”

“-And shoved it down his throat.” I chuckled softly, stopping abruptly as she started scribbling on that fucking notepad of hers again. I looked at Ray- he was stifling a laugh of his own.

“Yeah? Tell me something new.” I scoffed.

“You need help, Frank.”

“I said something new.” She closed her folder and stood up from her chair.

“Ok, we’re done here. Mr. Toro, escort Mr. Iero out and send in my next client, please.” She sighed and handed the file to Ray, who quickly snatched it from her boney fingers. I slowly stood up from the chair, internally pissed at her obvious deterred attitude toward me. I forcefully rotated my shoulders, my bones popped from sitting uncomfortably for a long span of time. I slipped through the same door I entered with Ray at my heels.

Most of the inmates were gone, either held up in one of the rooms or escorted back to their cells. Gerard was gone too, but I wasn’t sure if Mikey was still being evaluated or not.

Ray escorted me down the thin, ill-lit corridors. I peered through one of the screens, spotting Kellin in his own interview. There was an extra person in the room with them- a tall man in casual clothing. He had short, copper-toned hair and a soft beard to match. Kellin moved his hands swiftly and gracefully like it was a language of its own, and the person next to him seemed to understand it perfectly. I remember taking a few classes on Sign Language; It’s a creative way to communicate- I’ll give him that. Much more than scribbling on a notepad.

We walked until we reached Cell Block A again. I walked ahead of Ray, taking one final right into the hallway I’d grown to call ‘mine.’

I felt like I was inside an orange crayon. Every inmate in this block waited outside their cell gates- some sitting, others standing, like an orange coat of paint on the bottom half of the walls. I spotted Gerard and Mikey standing on either sides of the metal gate, both of their faces showing a bit of fear. I nudged Ray and threw him a questioning look.

“Probably a Cell check, its normal. Just wait until the guard gives you the all clear and then you can go back in.”

“Whatever.” I muttered, leaning against the wall next to Gerard. It looked like the guards were just getting started; they were only on the second cell.

It took them almost forever and a day to reach our cell, and both of the brothers looked like they were going to have fucking panic attacks. At least I kept my cool; I mean come on- what’s there to be afraid about?

“Move.” Hitler-stache ordered, giving me a death stare.

“…But I’m not in your way.” I answered, puzzled.

“Did I ask for your lip, Ear-o? I said move, inmate!” Excuse you?

“But what if I don’t want to-“

My speech was abruptly muffled by a sweaty palm pressing itself against my lips. I looked over my shoulder at Gerard angrily, but his gaze never met mine. I rolled my eyes and jerked my body to get away from his hand, away from it all. Fucking asshole.

“That’s better, I like ‘em quiet.” He smirked, stepping into our cell. I peered around the corner of the wall and watched as he basically grabbed everything in sight and began flipping it over nonchalantly. Gerard tensed behind me while we watched, I could feel his breathing quicken on my shoulder.

He took the two bottom mattresses and flipped them over to the floor, then taking the top two and just dragging them off. I watched my book fall to the floor, landing on the pages as the folded over each other. He kicked it roughly into the corner of the room. Gerard’s small shelf was next as he picked it up effortlessly and dumped everything over, scattering it throughout the tiny cell. Papers, books, magazines went flying throughout the room. I watched the book hit the ground and bounce, lying open on its spine. The pages look to be ripped into a pocket of some sort, a baggie of white pills poking from the top. God Damnit Gerard.

Hitler-stache picked up the goodie bag, a sly smile curling onto his face. Fuck.

“Well, well, well! Looks like I found the grand prize now, huh?” He sneered almost too cheerfully. He stepped out of the cell, holding the sandwich bag between his two fingers like a cigarette. He turned to face the three of us, leaning more towards myself than the two brothers.

“So, who’s the lucky loser? Hm? Sneaking drugs into MY FACILITY?!” His voice was so loud I’m surprised I kept my hearing.

“Well technically you don’t know if it’s drugs yet, for all you know they could be tic tacs-“

My head lurched to my right as his greasy palm met my face. An awful stinging sensation spread throughout my cheek. He hit me. The son of a bitch slapped me.

I raised my right hand to coddle my blazing red cheek. The same color slowly spread to the rest of my face as I felt my blood boil. I clenched my fists and bit my tongue; afraid I’d do something drastic. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“Frank.” Gerard warned, grabbing the collar of my shirt and holding it tight. I exhaled deeply, my nerves dead to his touch. I looked down at my feet.

“Sorry, sir.” I don’t know whom I was addressing at this point.

“I’m going to ask one last time before I haul all three of your asses into solitary. Who’s. Is. This?” He clenched the bag tight between his fingers. Had there been any air in the bag whatsoever it probably would have popped like a bag of potato chips.

I quickly assembled my thoughts: My number one priority at this point was to keep the brothers together. Mikey’s been through enough as it is. I parted my lips to confess-

“It’s mine.” A quiet voice cracked, echoing though the dead silent hall. My head jerked to the right, as did Hitler-stache’s. Mikey took a step forward and cleared his throat. “They’re mine.”

“Michael, no.” I shot him a warning look. You don’t have to do this.

“Michael, yes!” Hitler-stache piped up, clapping his hands together once and taking a few steps towards the small boy. “Turn around, inmate.”

Mikey obeyed immediately, facing the wall with his hands draped around his back. My stomach clenched as the guard unnecessarily pushed his face into the concrete, earning a soft whimper from him. He smashed the cuffs against his wrists, tightening them until Mikey sharply gasped from the pain.

"Mikey!!" I screeched, my heart racing.

"Frank!" Fear tore through his eyes as he looked over his shoulder- his terrified gaze met my own. I could only watch helplessly from the sidelines as he dragged Mikey away, the two of them disappearing around the corridor.

“Toro! Finish up inspection.” He barked, his voice barely audible from around the corner.

I turned back to Gerard, a guilty look settled in nicely on his face.

“What did you do.” I whispered dryly. Not waiting for a response, I slowly crept back into the room and began to pick up the aftermath of Hurricane Hitler, reminiscing on what just occurred.

Notes

Hey, guys! Again! XD sorry for such a long chapter, hope it didn't get too boring
SAT's suck, I'm praying to Geesus that I get a good score >.< And schools out for me so more uploading if I'm not too lazy Yaaaay!! <3 You guys, You're all amazing :*

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-Hazel