The Crash

Chapter 26

Cici and I walk in the unit from the Chow Hall, casually checking the mail. My name is highlighted again.

My mind turns as I try to think about who might have written me. I can honestly say I'm not sure

"That's weird." I say to Cici. "I haven't gotten mail in months."

At first, I thought the mail room was backed up, but eventually, I gave up hoping and figured Tate left me for dead.

"Well, go get it. See who it's from."

I walk up to the desk and grab my mail.

A letter from Tate? I figured maybe I pissed him off or something in my last letter. I spent weeks ruminating over what I said back to him, trying to figure out if there's anything that could have upset him. My mind was blank.

I peel the envelope open, revealing the letter.

Alex,

I'll be honest, your last letter kind of threw me off. I was joking about the girlfriend thing. I didn't think you'd actually do it. I know we aren't together, but I thought we still had something. Apparently not, because you've already moved on. I see how much I mean to you. Anyway, that's all I wanted to say.

-Tate

Um, okay. Not what I expected. I crumple up the letter, throwing in the trash. I feel so used, like he was only friends with me because he wanted to think he still had a chance. Guys can be so disgusting sometimes. They have such a one track mind.

Solemnly, I walk to my bunk and lie down. I pick up The Book Thief and try to get my mind off of everything. So much for not having drama. Prison is like high school. There's cliques, relationship drama, and a whole lot of being obsessed with appearances. It's so tiring. Add in all the stuff with Sam and I'm just plain exhausted.

I debate whether or not to write Tate back. Maybe it's better off that we are not friends anymore. I don't feel comfortable just letting him talk to me like that, though, so I decide to start scribbling words down as they come.

Tate,

It's my turn to be honest, I'm starting to feel like we were never truly friends. You were attached to my hip before I went to prison, and now I know why. You're so fake. I wish I never met you. By the way, Sam kisses me better than you ever did.

-Not your friend anymore

I know, I know, I'm petty. But he's not going to treat me like a piece of meat and not get a piece of something else-my mind. What a jerk. I can't believe I ever actually messed around with that asshole. It was a mistake, anyway.

I rub the eraser on the paper as hard as I can, wishing I could use it to erase him out of my life. After much contemplation, I decide to throw the note in the trash. It's not worth my time or my energy. I don't need anything toxic in my life right now, and apparently, that includes Tate.

*    *    *

The dorm is abuzz with chatter. The supposed "Men in Black" are coming to raid everyone. There's been a lot of issues with drugs, and it's come down to this. Girls have been nodding off, falling off their bunks. A few actually overdosed and died. Everyone is nervous to get searched and lose their contraband or get in trouble because of it.

Metal detectors are set up going in and out of the dorms, and everyone gets thoroughly searched, coming in and out. The only thing they don't search are condiments, which I find funny because you could definitely still put drugs in there if you tied them up in a small baggie. Not that I'd know. I'm just a critical thinker.

One by one, the housing units are being called to the gym while their dorms are gone through. I hear ours is next.

Just on cue, a guard yells, "Everyone line up with your hands on the back of your head. You are to walk the whole way there like that. If you move your hands, you go to the hole. Understood."

Okay, this has to be pretty serious if they are going to go to these lengths. What do they think we are going to do? Riot?

The dorm echoes in response.

We all form a line with our hands behind our heads as instructed. The longer we walk, the more my arms hurt. It's taking all my strength not to put them down. I'm not going to the hole again, though. I don't think I could mentally make it through that again.

We get to the gym, and everyone sits around in anticipation, wondering if they're going to get singled out by the Men in Black. Nobody has an innocent conscience, even the ones who are actually innocent. Everyone is gossiping about who has drugs and who doesn't. All the women seem to have a story about this person or that person and why they think they're part of the drug bust. 

Cici sits beside me. "This is really intense."

"It really is. How often does this happen?" I ask.

I pray this is a once-in-a-while thing. I really don't want to go through this every year.

"It's only happened once in the last three years. It's a big deal."

Apparently, nobody has actually seen the Men in Black, aside from the select few that have been here since the 90's. They take care to make sure nobody knows who they are, what they look like, or anything about them for that matter.

Everyone sits quietly, nervously looking around every once in a while. Every woman in this room is on edge. Including me.

I spot Sam sitting in the corner of the gym by the folding chairs, alone. Even she looks flustered, and she never loses her cool. That's how you know this is a big thing.

*    *    *

We get back to the dorm, and everything is torn up. Absolutely ripped apart. There are papers everywhere, bedding strewn off the racks, and instant coffee spilled all through the aisles. It's like a tornado went through.

The other inmates are searching their things, trying to see if anything was taken. It seems like they left the contraband alone. They have bigger things to deal with, apparently. Petty contraband doesn't even phase them right now.

I look out the dorm window to the rec room and see two girls in handcuffs surrounded by three C.O.'s and the unit sergeant. I can already guess where they are going. Their demise. They're going to stay in the hole a hell of a lot longer than I was in for. They're going to be so broken when I get out. I don't feel bad for them, though. They made that bed. Now they can lie in it.

The whole day is thrown off. We aren't even allowed to go to the Chow Hall. All of our meals are delivered to us in brown paper bags, and they are all either bologna or peanut butter and jelly. Some of the girls are pissed, but I honestly don't mind it. I hate having to walk halfway across the farm to eat three times a day anyway.

*    *    *

A few days later, everything returns to normal after all of the units are searched. Yes, this was a three day adventure. The longest three days I've been here, aside from when I was in the hole. 

Judging by the gossip, three girls were running a drug ring with one of the prison workers bringing drugs in and out. Women were also having drugs put on the back of stamps, so they got them when they were given their letters. I have no idea how they figured that out. It's creative, though. I'll give them that.

"I'm so glad this is over." I tell Cici.

I really am. Line movement is resumed, and we can actually go places again and get fresh air. And I can see Sam. It feels like it's been forever. It gave me some time to process everything, though. I still feel on edge about what I saw, and I'm keeping an eye out for red flags, but she's still Sam.

"Me too. She says. I'm glad they didn't take any of my stuff."

Cici and her contraband. She's so attached to it, like they are her prized possessions. We both sigh with relief, shaking our heads at how crazy these past few days on the farm have been.