Twin

Chapter 5: There's No Place Like Home

Alex detested this place. His bed was hard and it squeaked whenever he moved a limb. The door was not even a door- it was more like a gate. Also, there was nothing he could do besides watch men walk to and fro. He was served disgusting food, and not every time his mouth urged to be quenched, water would be present. He felt powerless and incomplete; like a lion which had lost both its mane and throne. The things he missed were multitudinous and uncountable. He missed tasting fresh apples. He missed his acting classes and his new friends there. He missed hanging out and playing video games. He missed going to Sherek Cafe every Sunday afternoon to order ice tea. He missed torturing his haters, showing them how pathetic, insignificant, and inutile they were, and how worthwhile he invariably had been. He missed Lynda though he wasn't supposed to. He missed home- his real home. And much much more... Yet there were other things which, even in this suppressing place, he could never quit: loving his mother and loathing his brother, as well as thinking to where his father might've gone; he formed speculations that rarely left his mind. Though he had been through lots of horrible and hard conditions, nothing ever made him bitterly suffer more than this place did. His dreams, no his nightmares, (as Alex considered them to be) were mere images of aspects that lied (and could be possible) only outside the room's walls. They vexed his heart, and caused his soul to ache in nostalgia. But the most terrifying and enraging experience he was forced to go through was the thought that he was in this place where there was absolutely nothing to enjoy, while Zach was effortlessly living in freedom. The thought ripped his skin and sucked the blood out of his veins. It detonated his brain and gave rise to a tremendous conflagration in all of his body. It allowed a great deal of sorrow and pang to infest his emotions. This was the very reason why he mostly despised jail. However, Alex was no loser; he was a devious schemer who found giving up was only for the helpless.

"I did not kill anybody," Alex cried to one of the guards. He tightly grabbed two bars.

"Nor did many others here." The guard replied. "Now shut up and do not emit any voice."

Alex raised one eyebrow. "I did not steal or counterfeit. I did not commit any crimes. I do not belong here."

"If you don't zipp your mouth, you will not be given food until your stomach swells."

"What about water? Will I not be permitted to drink either? It's not like the food is edible here anyway."

The guard started to lose patience. Just as he was about to punch him, Alex said, "Be careful, man. If you hurt me, you will be punished, and worse, you will not have anyone to talk to. I've watched you pacing here and there for days. Soon your legs will tire. Also, I saw how bored you are; no one treats you here like a real human. No one speaks to you. No one even looks at you. You are very much like me and the others here: a prisoner. But here I am, speaking and looking... Think of how better your life would become if we were friends. I could very much help you, and you me."

To the guard, Alex's words were so grave and eloquent. The guard paused his movement, and studied Alex's face. He thought that there was nothing he could lose, and that if he were carefully mindful, there was no way he would get into any trouble if accepts Alex's terms. He moved forward to get closer to him.

"Dave," he said.

"Alex," Alex replied and slyly smiled.

Through the bars, they shook hands.