You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison

“Ok ok-“ I started, trying my hardest to contain my laughter. I’d never been good at telling jokes or funny stories, I’d always giggle to the point where it wasn’t funny anymore.

A loud buzzer quickly interrupted my continuous snickering, followed by most- if not all- of the gates opening at once. Multiple guards stood in neat little rows trailing down the corridor as all the inmates poured out of their cells. I rolled up my sleeves, preparing for a fight- or worse.

“Outside!” A familiar voice boomed. I poked my head slightly past the opened cell door, peering around the left corner. I recognized Hitler-stache directing everyone through the only set of doors that exited the Cell Block. Men of all shapes, sizes, and colors marched military-style toward the open doors. I turned my head to the right, noticing a familiar ‘fro man standing alone, lined up like the rest of the guards next to my cell. A hand softly brushed mine, then grasped it lightly. I looked down; the same chewed-up nails from before slowly intertwined with my own. His hand gripped mine tightly, his fingers trembling softly.

“Ray? What’s going on?”

“Yard time, you guys are allotted two hours a day outside, depending on the weather.” His lips moved in sync with his voice, but his body never stirred from his military-like stance. I felt Mikey remove his hand from mine and turned around; he looked more relaxed and sighed in relief.

“What’s outside?” I mean, Gerard’s still gone, it’s not like he could tell me. I couldn’t exactly ask anyone else either. I started overthinking again; What if there was nothing to do outside? What if Bob wanted revenge? Would he have his friends do it for him? Would they kill us, and mangle our bodies past the point of recognition? I tried to force the thoughts out of my head, they were going to send me into a panic attack if I didn’t stop.

“It’s like a schoolyard, almost. There’s a grassy field, a basketball court; It’s really not that bad.” He explained. His lips twitched into a half smile, then quickly repositioned themselves into an emotionless stare.

“Ewww, the outdoors? But- ugh, whatever. Come on, let’s-“ I turned back to my left, ignoring Mikey’s whining. I saw Hitler-stache make his way towards us, an annoyed look plastered on his face. I looked past him- all the other inmates had disappeared through the doors already. Shit.

“Hey! I don’t have all day. Let’s go.” He barked, shrinking down to my eye level and exchanging an intimidating glare. I shot one right back at him; I don’t care how short I was or how young I appeared to be, I was not going to be pushed around here. Not now, not ever. And definitely not by a man with a mediocre mustache.

“Frank, come on. He’s not worth it.” Mikey tugged on my inked arm, practically tearing it off trying to drag me out of our cell. Since when did he get in front of me? I blinked twice, and broke off the ridiculous staring contest with this domineering asshole. C’mon. I barely heard Mikey say again. I blindly followed both him and another guard as he led us out into the Yard.

The Yard was actually much larger than I anticipated; of course, it had to be large in order to fit hundreds of men at a time, although it seemed only my Cell Block was out currently. Hm, I wonder if they ever let us all out at once.

Ray was right; there was a basketball court filled with semi-familiar faces that I couldn’t stick a name too, and frankly didn’t care too. Two racks of dark and faded basketballs, shaded much like our uniforms, stood almost empty as most of them continued to be bounced and thrown about.

We both turned around to ‘Michael’s’ name ringing through the air. A familiar face broke through the sea of orange and made his way towards us.

“Oh, hey Bob.” Mikey chirped up. I peered closer to his face, studying the extent of the damage done hours before. To be honest, I wish Gerard had done worse. Bob’s nose was bandaged lightly, only one or two layers of gauze covering it. There was minimum damage on his face, for the amount of force Gerard seemed to be exerting at the time. His left eye was bruised and slightly swollen, a few purple bruises still forming on his cheekbones. C’mon Gee, You could’ve done better than that. I mean, Bob may be bigger, but he wasn’t even fighting back. His face shouldn’t have stood a chance against your huge, toned muscles and your big, strong…

“Frank…Frank!” Mikey waved his hand in front of my face, breaking me from my trance. “You okay? You’ve been staring at nothing for like, ever.”

“Huh? Yeah, sorry. No. I’m fine.” I stuttered out, my cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Ok… anyways- Bob, I’m really sorry for what my b-“

“Gerard. For what Gerard did to you, we both are.” I quickly interjected, finishing his sentence before Mikey spilling the secret we all agreed never to talk about. Lying was second nature for me, but it seemed like Mikey had zero experience whatsoever.

“Right.” Mikey continued. “What he did, I don’t even know-“

“Don’t worry about it, it doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.” Liar. Mikey rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed at all the interruptions.

The three of us sat down at what looked to be a picnic table, but instead of it being wooden and polished, it was metallic and rusted. Much to my dismay, Bob and Mikey continued to talk to one another like old friends, even though they had an age gap so wide you could drive a truck through it. I mean, come on. Bob graduated high school before Mikey had even been born.

I rolled my eyes, ignoring their conversation and allowing my eyes to wander again. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but most of the players were now sitting on the sidelines, sweating their ass’s off and chugging water bottles that sat in a fairly large cooler just opposite the court.

My gaze settled on another young boy about thirty feet in front of me, leaning against the only big tree in the yard. He looked pretty feminine from a distance- had this not been an all-male facility, I would’ve mistaken him as a girl immediately. His shoulder length brown-or was it black? I couldn’t tell from here- hair covered his face, blocking my view of any other distinguishing features. He sat with his knees tucked under his chin. He appeared to be sleeping, until he picked his head up and flipped his hair out of his face, his skin looking almost paler than my own. Damn, he was just a kid too, like us. How many of us were there? What kind of fucked up District Attorney is charging kids as adults? He tucked a piece of it behind his ear and looked around, his eyes sweeping the yard quickly before settling once more, his head leaned against the tree.

Mikey must have realized my attention had diverted from the group at this point, because he asked me what I was staring at. I pointed to the guy, and Mikey asked Bob who he was.

“Nobody knows, really. All I know about him is what my kitchen duty buddies told me about him. But yeah, he pretty much ignores everyone here, never pays attention to anything. It’s like he blocks out the world. He just sits by himself all the time, reading or playing with a stupid deck of cards. In the eight months he’s been here though, he’s never said a word to anyone, he just touches his face whenever someone tries to talk to him. He always lags behind the group whenever we go anywhere, whether it’s to the Yard or the Mess Hall, just blindly following us wherever we go, like a puppy. A weird, fucked up puppy. The guys beat on him constantly, I mean why not? He’s a freak. A young, precious, virgin freak.” He voice got lower and more husky. As much as I hated bullying, this was different. If this were high school, I’d have bruised up his face even more. But this was the real world, I didn’t want to end up in the same place Gerard was in right now. Actually, I would. Definitely would. But I knew that wouldn’t have happened, so I kept my mouth shut, against every fiber of my being telling me to stand up for this kid. Mikey grew more uncomfortable with every word that came out of his mouth. He cleared his throat and stood up.

“Oh come on, he can’t be that bad. Come on, Frank. ” He said confidently, a hint of nervousness in his tone.

I walked past Mikey, who seemed to second-guess his first judgment and stayed behind me, letting me take the lead. I slowly strolled up, my own subconscious begging me to turn around. I was about ten feet away when his head turned slightly in my direction. He opened one of his eyes, sizing me up. I froze, not daring to get any closer. He smirked at my hesitant demeanor, opening both of his eyes and focusing on the two men behind me, slowly catching up.

“Like I said, he’s fucking weird.” Bob muttered quietly to Mikey.

The kid’s bright hazel eyes locked onto Bob’s, his eyebrows raised with a look of annoyance. He chuckles softly, and focuses his attention back on me.

He leans his head forward slightly, eyebrows still raised in a ‘What do you want’ sort of way.

Bob! I heard someone call from the distance. I turned my head, Bob had started to walk in the direction of the monotone voice. Good riddance.

“Whatever, have fun trying to get the freak to talk.” I cringed at the sentence, memories of my own torment surfacing in my mind. I shoved them back down; this wasn’t about me, this was about the kid. Everyone’s a kid to me, okay?

“Come on, Michael.” Bob started to walk off, but upon noticing Mikey not following his lead, he spoke again.

“Michael, lets go.”
“Those people look sketch, I’d rather not.” Mikey’s voice trailed off, intrigued by the silent exchange between myself and the stranger.

Anger flared in Bob’s eyes. “I. Said. Let’s. Go.” He tugged at Mikey’s arm. I quickly turned to defend him.

“And he said no. Back off, Bryar.” I warned, trying to intimidate a guy over a foot taller than me, and twice my size muscle wise. I didn’t look very threatening.

“You really don’t wanna make an enemy of me, Frank.”

“Oh yes, I really do.”

“Guy’s just stop! Bob, just go with your friends, please?” Mikey pleaded.

“Whatever, have fun with your little ménage à trois.” He took one last look at Mikey, before stalking off back from the pits of hell from which he came.

I returned my attention back to the kid, who was silently laughing at us. Mikey awkwardly laughed with him, feigning confidence.

“So what’s your name.” I simply stated, trying to start some sort of conversation with the black-haired boy. He replied only with a simple stare, examining Mikey, then myself, from top to bottom. Mikey ran his fingers through his hair, shifting his weight from left to right, then back to the left.

“Why don’t you talk?” Mikey blurted.

“Michael!” I scoffed, bewildered at his indignance.

“What??” He whined, drawing out the ‘a’.

“You can’t just ask him why he doesn’t talk.”

“Well, why not! Bob says he doesn’t talk, I wanna know why!!”

“You really care about what that pedophile has to say?” I ridiculed, rolling my eyes. I heard the kid laugh in agreement.

“Yes I do, because he’s my friend! Damnit Frank, we’ve been over thi- DON’T INTERRUPT!” He turned his head and started to scream at a nearby guard. The guard held a whistle between his lips, and promptly flashed his middle finger at Mikey, which just pissed him off even more. He growled, clearly upset and annoyed at the gesture.

I noticed the basketballs were back on the racks as all the inmates began to line up. The same guard started to make his way towards us, beckoning us back to the group. Mikey had already begun to stalk off towards the officer.

“Mikey, wait.” I sped off towards him, almost forgetting about the kid against the tree. I spun my head around, but by the time I did, he was already gone.

Notes

Sorry for the delay guys! Had some friends over, and did some serious revising to this chapter because this story started to go in a direction that was too original for me, I guess. So, yeah. Presenting chapter 7. So, who do you think this mysterious youngster is? Who do you want it to be? Leave us some ideas/suggestions in the comments (;

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Xoxo
-Hazel