I mean, I’ve seen Ren behave in a lot of troubling ways. I’ve seen him get into fights on purpose… I’ve seen him hurt himself. It’s part of the reason why even just having him as afrienddrives me mental. Being in his presence is like being on a rollercoaster that never stops.
I swear to God, I need to keep my distance for my own sanity. This friendship is gonna give me ulcers.
Joy gets us back to the row, and much to my dismay, Ren’s not in his cell. Once I’m stuffed back into mine, alone, I really start to panic. Dash is gone… back in solitary. Ren is off, God knows where.
And I’m here. In my same cell, by myself.
It’s like I’m doomed to always end up this way. No matter what happens in this place, I’ll always be right fucking here,alone.
I’m sick of it. The revolving door of cellmates who always disappear. Unreliable friends constantly being dragged out of my life. And I just have to sit here and watch it happen.
Exhausted and mentally drained, I crawl into Dash’s bed and curl up in a ball. It’s times like these when the thoughts start to creep in… the ones I never allow myself to have. The ones I keep on the other side of a force-field in my mind, because it’s just going to make things worse.
But right now, I just can’t help it.
I miss my parents. I miss my friends.
I miss school, and my computer, and the beach.
Sushi, and In-N-Out…
Fireworks over the ocean.
Rolling onto my stomach, I bury my face in the pillow. It smells like Dash.
I fall asleep to memories of all the things I’ll never see again, for the rest of my life.
I dreamt about designing a computer, and when I wake up, I have the strongest urge to make it happen.
Doing it in here is nothing shy of impossible. I know that. Even if I were to find spare parts somehow, they’d never let me keep them. And even if they did, the Warden would shut that shit down, and maybe even kill me.
After all, a computer in my hands is like a gun or a knife in someone else’s.
Still, I can’t stop thinking about it over the course of the day, which ends up dragging more than most others. I guess because of what happened yesterday, Velle decided to keep us in our cells longer than usual. I get no shower or meal until dinner time, and when I do, I’m brought in without my friends.
It reminds me of my early days, when I used to sit alone, looking over my shoulder every few seconds for fear someone would start shit or try to attack me. It didn’t happen much, but it would on occasion. Luckily for me, I always became friends with my cellmates, and they were pretty protective. It should come as no surprise that I’m not really a fighter. I learned to scrap a little because Ihadto, but I would always much rather use my words, which isn’t the preferred method of conflict resolution for guys in here.
Not too long after that, Ren showed up. And even though I never asked him to, he made it his personal business to look out for me.
It’s different now. When I come into the caf alone, a few of the guys call me over to sit with them. But I don’t. It feels like high school again… I’m the young one, opting to eat by myself, rather than deal with trying to socialize or fit in.
On my way back to the row for the night, I pass Ren’s cell and stop short when I see him in there. He’s lying on his bunk holding an iPad. The glow of whatever he’s watching illuminates his face, and the visible black and blue around his right eye.
I wander over to the bars, and he looks up, immediately lowering the device and hopping out of bed when he sees me.
“Hey,” Jasper grunts at my back. “No bullshit shit, 35. Back to your cell.”
“Jake,” Ren murmurs to him, tilting his head.
Jasper sighs out of annoyance. “Make it quick.” Then he saunters off, bringing the other inmates to their cells.
Stepping up to the bars, I clutch them in my fists as Ren walks up, his eyes set on mine. As soon as he’s close, I can see a nasty cut on his bottom lip to accompany the black eye.
Wanting nothing more than to keep this casual, the way it needs to be, I mutter, “iPad, huh? Nice…”
His split lip twitches. “Movie night sleepover?” I scoff and shake my head. “I’m glad to see you…”
“Are you alright?” I ask quietly, riddled with complex stuff I don’t want to be feeling.