REID

Chapter: 19

It's been three months since Reid was processed into Henderson State Prison. He had been lucky in that it took less than forty-eight hours for the guards to take him into A block and placed him into his own cell. It was only designed to hold one inmate and had a bench with a mattress and a pillow, as opposed to a full bunk.

He was given access to the yard, where he would go in the evenings and early afternoons. He was also given a small allowance of credit that he could use in the prison's commissary. Though he didn't go there too much. Only when he needed toiletries, such as shampoo or toothpaste. Though he did purchase a book that he brought back to his cell and stored under his pillow. Something to entertain him, at least for the time being.

It was late afternoon, probably around 4 or 5pm. Time wasn't important anymore. Reid was taken into the cafeteria, where he stood in line to receive his meal. He was given a slab of dark meat in gravy with a side of mashed potatoes and a slice of white bread. He took his tray and looked around the room. He saw an empty area off in a corner and made his way over to take his seat.

Once sat down, he began to eat slowly, sitting in silence for most of his meal. He was almost finished with the meat, but hadn't even touched his potatoes yet, when someone walked up behind him and snatched the clump of mush off his tray. Reid twisted around to see a dark brown bull standing behind him.

"Ohhh lookie here! Looks like you don't want the good shit, so we'll give it to someone who needs it!" the bull hurled the clump of potatoes across the room. A group of inmates all attempted to catch it at once.

Reid looked back at his tray and didn't say a word. He finished his food and took the tray over to the dedicated tray return window and sat back down where he was before. He sat for a while by himself, however right before it was time to end the meal block, a gray horse with a black mane came over and sat in front of him. Reid looked up.

"Heyo." He said softly. His voice was low, but sounded somewhat friendly.

"Um ... Hi? Can I help you?" the deer responded.

"Well, I was just coming over here to introduce myself. It looks to me like you still don't have anyone backing you up. I've seen you around, though. You're a loner, and that could be a blessing AND a curse. It's pretty much a necessity to find someone that you can talk to, and that could help watch your back." He stuck a hand across the metallic table. "People here call me Neighbor. And before you ask, yes, it's cause I'm a horse."

Reid gave a half smile and shook his hand. "Reid."

On cue, there was a loud electronic beep signaling the end of "chow time". Reid stood up and looked around. Most of the inmates headed out to the yard for their recreation, and the deer and horse followed suit.

Once outside, Reid walked casually through the yard. There were a couple basketball courts, benches everywhere, and a rubber track that surrounded the whole yard. Neighbor headed over to a small group, and the deer made his way to the track. He decided early on, that since he was here for a while, he might as well keep himself in shape.

He ran the track for close to twenty minutes before taking a seat on one of the benches. Neighbor saw him and walked over toward him, sitting as well. The two talked about life, and why they were convicted. Neighbor was caught smuggling money from his job at a very large accounting firm. He'd been locked up for three years at this point, with only four more left to go.

He seemed impressed with Reid's resume.

"Vigilante. Not bad." Neighbor said. "You know, all of us here hate those same types of people you do. Though not many of us have the guts to track down those bastards and give 'em what for. I respect that." He gave a nudge to the deer's arm.

Reid nodded and heard the signal to get back into cells. As he stood up, he was stopped by Neighbor's hand. He looked down.

"Before you go, I wanna give this to you." He reached into his jumpsuit and took out a large, foreign-looking coin. "Just as a sign of trust. I got your back."

The deer looked at the coin and cautiously took it. Without another word, the horse walked off. Reid gave a single amused laugh before hiding the coin on him and walking toward the entrance back to the cell block.

This block was much bigger than his original one when he first showed up. It had three tiers with around fifty cells on each floor. There was a large, center area with metal tables that were used during the day, when the cell doors were kept open to give the inmates time to socialize and wander the block. Under heavy supervision, of course.

Reid sat back on his bed, looking out the door into the common area, watching everyone do their own things. He pulled out the book he had hidden and continued reading it. It was a fictional tale about the Middle Ages. He found it an interesting read. Though he was quickly taken from this moment by the sounds of screaming and shouting.

He tossed the book behind him and sat up, looking straight ahead. He noticed a lion holding what looked to be a broken shard of a mirror. To Reid's horror, the lion was holding a dark gray wolf by the throat and using the mirror as a makeshift knife. The deer's eyes locked onto the scene that was unfolding, seeing the knife being plunged into the wolf's side repeatedly, slowly becoming coated in a dark red sludge.

Time slowed to a near stop as Reid was witnessing this. In reality it all happened within the span of a few seconds before one of the guards opened fire on the lion, dropping him with only a couple shots to the chest. The traumatized buck backed against his bed and plopped onto it. He couldn't seem to peel his gaze from the commotion that occurred in front of his cell. Only when the cell door slammed did, he shake himself from his trance.

Reid laid in his bed therest of the night, unmoving, curled into himself as he cried silently. Hewanted to leave this hellhole, his psyche being tortured day in and day out.This wasn't the place for someone like him. He always thought of himself as atough nut to crack, yet here he lies, a broken shell of who he once was.