The Prison of Hell

I woke up the sound of my alarm clock. With a groan I rolled over and turned it off. It was January and still a bit hung over from New Years. I climbed out of bed and in a dark but warm apartment. I put on my winter uniform which was only a bigger coat, thicker boats and a warmer hat. Glancing at the mirror I notice how messy I look. Hair all tangled, baggy eyes ,and a little stubble appearing on my face. Normally I would care but for Christ sake I work at a jail so what the point. I stumbled into the kitchen to have a cup of coffee ready for me. Mikey works in a bakery so he as to wake up really early in the morning for work. He’s a really smart kid and needs a better job. The only upside to his job is that he brings home left overs. I sipped at my coffee and lighted up a cigarette. Inhale smoke, let out smoke rings, sip coffee, repeat. When I finished my coffee and my cigarette is almost done I left the house. The jail is only a few blocks away so I walked to work. For a neighborhood that is very, very close to a fucked up jail everyone is very friendly. I don’t know if it’s my uniform or what but everyone is always so friendly towards me and my brother. Which is always nice to know that we have reliable neighbors but it’s really weird? I grow up in a scary part of town so I’m used to having my keys in between my fingers at all times. When I got to the jail I gave my I.D to the gate keeper who let me in right way. I’ve been working here for about three months now so most people know me by now. I walked down a flight of stairs to a bunch of room where the guards report to, to get there guns, hand cuffs, and whatever else needed. There is also a break room where we go for lunch and pep a little Labrador retriever that was arrested for killing a cat but now just lives here. I walked over and gave him a little pat on the head or two or three. What am I saying I was cuddling with him. “Mr. Way.” Said Margret the reception lady. She keeps track of papers and visitors. I cleared my throat and stood up shakily. “Sorry Margret.” I mumbled. She giggled. “So I guess you went out drinking last night.” she said with a smirk. We’re friends but she likes to pick on me a lot. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I said walking out. “Wait.” She called which I stopped and walked over to her. She pulled out a comb, make up, and some ginger ale. She started to fix my hair and applying makeup to my bags to make them less purple. “Here this helps me with a hangover.” She said handing me a bottle of ginger ale. “Thank you.” I said with a yawn and head to my cell block.

Notes

yeah i know its a boring chapter but ever start of a story is slow.