The Prison of Hell

Later that night while walking home my mind kept thing about inmate 4202. His dark brown eyes staring into my soul, wide and frozen like a deer in head lights. When I arrived to my apartment I places my coat and hat on the rack and plopped down on the couch. I closed my eyes to clear my head but nothing. I heard the door knob turn and Mikey entered. His glasses were sitting on the tip of his nose which he adjusted when he places the leftover food from the bakery on the counter. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back and in his way he grown to like.
“Hey Gerard.” he said cheerfully sitting down next to me trying to get my attention like a little puppy.
“Hey Mikes.” I groaned. He frowned and put his extremely long legs on the coffee table using his oversized white shirt as a blanket.
We sat and read whatever books we had lying around like usual Mikey was read some medical book trying to taking in as much information as possible. I’m proud of him; at least he knows what he wants to do with his life. Unlike me who works in the creepiest jail ever. I heard ghost stories about that place. I’m shocked that I wasn’t possessed or some shit like that.
Around 6:00 I decided to make some leftover from Christmas that Margret gave us. She has two kids and husband who is extremely picky so whatever extras they don’t eat they give to us. Which were happily would eat. Like look at us. We’re starving and have no clue how to cook a decent meal. If we do know we don’t have the money to buy so much food that we could feed us weeks at a time. Even though we are in our early twenties we eat and sleep like teenagers.
When the food was ready Mikes and I sat and talked about our day. I left out the part about the inmate 4202 being cute as hell and just stock with the main idea. I still don’t know how it happens. Maybe it was some sort of gang activity or self-defense. Either or I haven’t heard anything. After dinner we cleaned up and head straight to bed. It was a peaceful night and it was nice to falling asleep to end this weird day.
The next morning I woke up to my alarm clock more peacefully. I felt much better today then yesterday so I actually gave a shit and got ready. I walked to the bathroom and showered, shaved, comb my hair and got completely dressed with a few minutes to spare. I walked into the kitchen where like usual a cup of coffee was waiting for me. I happily sipped at my coffee while getting my coat, scarf, bag, and hat on. I quickly finished my coffee and walked out the door into the freezing January weather. No one was out expected for a person here and there. On most days the streets would be crowded but not to that would freak me out. The walk to work felt weird like I was being watch. This happens most of the time because I’m a little paranoid ass hole. But something about this felt extra weird. In the corner of my eye I saw a figure walking behind me watching my every move. I shook it off thinking its some weird neighbor that likes to be creepy.
When I arrived at the jail I signed in and grabbed my stuff when I notice a note of instructions in my cubbie. I took it out and head for cell block 15 completely forgetting about it. The morning went on like normal. Patrolling the cells making sure everything is going smoothly until I heard the truck roll up to the cell block door. It was only 10:34 and lunch isn’t for a while. I waked out to the truck and two guards holding onto a man with a white sack over his head jumped out of the truck. That’s when I remember the note in my pocket from earlier today.
Bob grabbed the guy and I proceeded to help by grabbing his right side. Slowly we walked him to his new cell which was perfectly clean. Bob grabbed his gun and pointed at him while I lead him in. slowly I took off his bag, but froze when my eyes met his. Standing in front of me was inmate 4202. A devilish smile creped on his face. He chuckled to himself.
“You look like you just saw a ghost.” His voice was deep for his height but damn was it sexy. I took of the rope that was tied to his hands and walked out closing the cell door with a loud creek. I took one last look at him and he grinned once more then laid down on his bed. I walked quickly out of there with a million questions running through my head. First starting with “is he going to die?”

Notes