Frerard - Guys Like Us

Settling In

Awaking bleary-eyed and with an aching back the following morning, Frank stretched out to undo some of the knots that had formed from the rock-hard mattress (if you could even call it that). Sitting up, he could see into the other cells, noticing almost everyone else doing the same as him. He hadn't slept well and honestly just wanted to roll back over and ignore the guards as they dragged their batons along the bars of each cell as they passed. He went to pee and splashed some water over his face, then he just sat back on his bed, legs crossed, looking out expressionless.

He'd decided on his game plan. He would keep his head down and avoid everyone as much as possible. If someone seemed ok and made conversation, he would be polite enough to return it, but give nothing away about himself. If someone decided to press his buttons, he would try, really try not to retaliate. He knew he had a quick temper and an even quicker mouth, but didn't want to let it run away with him in here. He would do his best to keep his smart retorts in check. He just wanted to get through this. This fucking nightmare that he had been plunged into.

He could hear cells being unlocked but remained frozen to his spot on his bed. A different guard appeared at his cell, opening it wide and gesturing for him to come out.

He didn't. He just sat and shrugged.

"Come on son. You need to eat!" he said in an almost friendly manner.

"Not hungry" Frank replied.

"Look! Get your ass out now kid. This will be the hardest day, I know, but you gotta just do it. No point putting it off. A lot of the guys in here are ok you know, and I always keep an eye out for the new kids" he offered.

"I'm not a fucking kid, and I'm not fucking scared to go out there" Frank bitched. "I'm just not hungry, ok?"

"Yeah sure," the guard replied with a quiet laugh. "I'm Bob by the way. Officer Bryar officially" the strawberry blond guard told him, "so if you need anything at all, just give me a shout ok? Now come on! Get the fuck up!" he sounded a little less patient now.

Frank begrudgingly left his cell and made his way to the food hall. The smell already made him feel ill. Everything must have been cooked in grease and it made Frank want to vomit. He took a tray from the end of the line and placed a coffee and a slice of toast on it. Then he made his way to a table with the fewest people sat at it, and slid into a seat at the end away from everyone else. He just kept his head down and nibbled on his toast. His stomach actually growled with hunger, but he struggled to swallow it for fear of it coming straight back up again. He finished it eventually and sipped on the luke warm sludge that was supposedly coffee.

Sitting quietly, he risked a few glances around. He'd attracted a bit of attention as the new guy in the wing and could feel eyes on him from various tables. He looked back to his now empty plate and prayed that nobody would talk to him. They didn't luckily, and Frank managed to make his way back up to his cell without too much attention. Sitting reading a book on his bunk, he felt a presence at the doorway. It was Officer Bryar.

"How d'it go kid?" he asked, the word 'kid' really beginning to grate on Frank.

"Fine" he replied sulkily (like a petulant 'kid').

"Listen" Office Bryar started. walking into Frank's cell without invitation, "I'm going to give you a bit of a heads up about this place. I think you're going to need it."

This piqued Frank's interest a little. What did he mean, 'he was going to need it?' And what did the other guard mean when he said they would love him in here?

"This place is kind of split into two groups. You'll probably start to notice that yourself, but there is like a rivalry between them; a kind of gang mentality so to speak. When anyone new comes in here that they take a liking to, or think might fit into their group, they swoop on them. Usually, you can tell instantly which group a new guy will fit in to, but with you....." he paused and pursed his lips, "....not so much."