You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison

Five. (Frank's POV)

I got to the showers and saw Pete wrapped in a towel. He looked at me, nodded to say hello and made his way to an empty shower. I did the same, grabbed a towel from the nearby stack, walked into a stall and turned on the water. The cold water splashed on my head and slowly trickled down my forehead, nose and back. Warm anything seems to be physically impossible here, so I had to work with the iciness of it.

I really like showers. Because of my sudden panic attacks and emotional overloads, showers seem to cool me off and wash all the problems away, giving me a clean slate. Plus, they're really intimate, being naked and all.

You also feed a bit vulnerable because of that. Like now, if I had found a spider, instead of feeling superior to it like a normal person would, I would feel inferior and try to escape it. Good thing I had checked before turning on the water, otherwise I'd be stuck in here with an insect, I would hate that.

After 5 minutes, the given time to have a cold shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist like Pete had and quickly tiptoed out of the stall, shivering. I made my way to the mirrors to dry my hair. The hair dryer was attached to the wall in a plastic holder, kind of like at a public pool, but it had a different vibe to it considering I was in prison rather than in a water park.

A guy with a huge fro was using it so I waited. He has the priority, he has way more hair on his head than I do. When he was done, He looked at me, smiled and passed me the blower. I took it, returned the favor awkwardly and started to dry my hair. I had washed it so it wasn't as greasy anymore. It flew in random ways until it was sort of smooth and water-less.

I then grabbed the jumpsuit I had hung on a hook when I walked in and went back into the stall to change. I'd never do that in front of people, it's my personal bubble. Don't pop it or you'll have to suffer the consequences.

When I was done slipping it on, I walked out, tossed my wet towel into a bin and skipped back to our cell. I was starting to get used to being in jail, this being my second day, but I had made a few friends for the sake of not being lonely.

I reached cell 76. The door was already open... Hadn't I closed it? I stepped in and the floor creaked. Gerard was lying on the floor, his arms spreaded and legs tangled near the bed. He had fainted.

I grabbed his unconscious body, threw it onto the bed and slapped him to wake up. I probably slapped him too much and too hard but he didn't wake up.

"Gerard! Wake up! It's Frank! You need to wake up! Please!" I started shouting in panic. His head just flipped sides when I slapped him, nothing much else happening that meant waking up.

"Wake" I slapped his cheek go the left, "Up!" And to the right. But nothing happened. I then ran out the door and shouted for security. After about 30 seconds, the fat officer ran to our cell as fast as he could, which wasn't very fast. He held a plastic bag with first aid stuff.

As soon as he saw Nº 489, he kneeled next to the bed and stuck a needle into his arm.

"What the heck are you doing?" I snapped, knowing my cellmate was afraid of needles.

"His blood pressure is low, he needs sugar." He started, jabbing another needle into his other arm. I cringed everytime the point pushed down the skin and was impaled, making him bleed a bit.

After those two needles were empty of their liquid stuff, the officer got up, shoved the needles back into his ziplock baggy and bowed.

"You're welcome, kid. Bet you didn't know he was diabetic. He probably fainted because of a sudden shock or just hadn't eaten in a while." He then nodded, so I did too. As soon as he had walked out, I closed the door behind him and slapped Gerard again.