Prisoners

TWELVE

I dragged my feet as I walked to my cell in Quadrant One. I could feel the eyes on me, hear the whispers as girls passed me. I was no longer the respected leader of One; I was the outlaw, the killer.

Was I ever respected? I wondered as I watched my feet move across the grey flagstones. I was beginning to rethink my whole regime here as leader of Quadrant One. I unpinned my badge from my shirt and glared at it. Respected authority figure, my ass. Everyone was too scared of me now; they had all known that I wasn't messing around before, but now they had every reason to be afraid of me. That made me afraid. I thought back to all of my years here, how I'd almost spent more time here than in the real world. The prison was mostly all I could remember. I had flashes of my dad, abusive and mean, and my mom -- I closed off my thoughts. I couldn't think of her at a time like this. I couldn't break down yet. This prison, which was basically my home, needed me.

Seven and a half years.

Seven and a half years, and I knew all the secret passageways, the layouts of all four Quadrants and the Visitor's Center. I knew how to get to my cell from anywhere. I knew which routes took the longest. I knew practically everything about this prison.

Did they really think I was stupid enough to kill someone in plain sight? 

I knew where the cameras were blind, which hallways were the darkest, what weapons would provide for the cleanest kill. If I had wanted, I could have been an assassin amongst the prisoners.

Of course, I would have been anonymous.

This person -- this person who killed Laney, of all people -- also knew these things. 

They would have been here for a long time. They would have been an opposing leader, someone whom I clashed with often. These thoughts swirled around my head as I made my way toward my cell, the spacious one for leaders, my badge still clutched in my hand. Did I deserve it?

I flung myself down on the bed and looked up at the peeling ceiling. For six years I'd stared at that ceiling when thoughts of Mom haunted me. Six years -- my first year was spent in a normal cell.

I stared at that ceiling now, my mind reeling. Who would have framed me? Why?

I sighed and rubbed at my eyes. The party was catching up to me now. If I hadn't gone, the killer wouldn't have a chance to kill Laney. I would have a solid alibi. But the party had been against the rules, and unless I wanted to get into even more trouble, maybe even be punished (I shuddered at that thought), I couldn't tell Dionysus that.

Instead I'd have to find the imposter, and reveal them. My mind was made up now.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and closed my eyes.

***

Screams from the kitchen. I held my breath, hugging my knees as tears ran down my face.

My room, and the walls around it, weren't soundproof to what was going on down there. I closed my eyes as a slapping sound echoed throgh the house and my mother cried out once again.

***

I was six. Mom had bought me ice cream, told me to wait by the roller coaster entrance. I didn't want to wait. I made up my mind; I was going after her.

I trailed her through the amusement park, the sun making me sweat. I ducked behind vendors and games every time she turned around. I frowned as she shook hands with a man in a black suit. His face was hidden by a fedora.

I'd seen the movies, where the bad guy was dressed like that. I didn't like that one bit.

"Mommy, who is that man?" I asked as I waddled towards her.