The facilities looked better than what Ray had thought he would see. He was not supposed to roam around, but one of the officers recognized him from the televised interview he had week ago, so he was given a short tour.
They have a library, where several inmates go during their free time. According to the officer, only a few are reading, usually. The rest are either talking to each other or eating.
"They are allowed to eat inside a library?" Ray had asked earlier. The officer looked at him and shook his head. "Actually, they're not. But there's too much of them. We've stopped telling them not to. It is not a big of a deal, anyway."
The administration office only had a few officers, and the ones who work in there are old men and women who used to be correction officers when they were young. The warden has his own office located in the second floor of the building. Ray was interested but meet him but was told that he was busy and could not entertain a visitor.
Back in the visiting room, he saw Ryan, facing away. He sat in front of him.
"The warden was busy, I wasn't given a chance to talk to him," he told his brother.
Ryan did not face him, and continued looking far away.
"Look at me, what is the matter?" he asked, worried.
"You told her things you should not have," he said, still not looking at Ray. It took Ray a short while tried to remember what it was supposed to be about, until he remembered his conversations with Melanie.
"No, I did not. What did she tell you?" He is unsure of what Ryan is accusing him of, a part of him knows what had happened between them.
"That she deserved another guy, is that what you told her?" Ryan finally faced him, but his usual warm and loving demeanor is replaced with coldness and silent rage.
"I did not, I guess I said the wrong words, but that is not what I meant to tell her." He remembered the way the conversation went, his intentions were mixed; he knew Melanie had better options, but he was also grateful that she chose him.
Ryan shoved a letter in Ray's hands, and he read it silently. She did not mention his name directly, but it was obvious that he was involved. As much as he wanted to defend himself from Ryan, he is uncertain whether he has to.
"She misinterpreted what I told her."
"No, she did not. You chose to say what you planned to. I lost everything when I got in here, I only had her, and now you pushed her out of my life."
Ray is hurt by what he heard. "She is the only person you could lean on? You have only known each other for awhile, I have been here the whole time," he said. He knows that it is going to escalate whether he likes it or not, so he better say what he wanted to.
"I felt like you were just forcing yourself to help me," Ryan said, to which Ray could not help but defend himself. "You know that is not true."
"All of the help that I have given you," he continued, "No one forced me to do them. I'm your only family left."
Ray thought what he said would ease his brother's feelings, but Ryan had another interpretation in mind. "So that is why you helped me. No one else will, did you only do all of that out of pity?"
This time, Ray chose not to speak. The thought of their relationship getting tainted with malice and mistrust scared him, petrified him, even.
"You know what?" He stood up, and started walking away. "I am going. We can continue to talk when you are ready. I am not going to lose you, too. I have lost enough people."
He started walking outside. He will walk, and walk, and walk, until he will feel his legs going numb. The surrounding establishments around of the prison has become familiar to him. He has recognized some familiar faces, too, although he has not talked to them.
His feet have not went numb an hour after his started walking. That is the thing about him; he has great stamina, and he does not tire easily. He would take a rest after awhile or so, he would sit on a bench or stand still for a few minutes, and he would walk again.
At last, he has reached his destination. Their familial home still looked the same, it is obvious from the outside that no one lives inside, and the moment he stepped in, he could feel the cold air touching his cheeks, which is quite similar to the awra of the house when seen outside.
Their old pictures in frames are organized and lined up, each one of the photographs a time in their lives when all was well. The first picture that caught his attention was from a vacation they took when they where at the beach. He loved the outdoors, as a child. In his adulthood, his love for nature has remained.
The other pictures are stained, but a few look new. They loved taking pictures as a family. Recently, Ray has stopped taking pictures around him and of himself, but he would never say no to a group picture. Suddenly, he felt the effects of his hours of walking. His feet feels strained and he could not stand any longer. He decided to go finally go home. He was expecting to see Bernie sitting on the couch, as he always sees him do, but today, he was not. He looked in his friend's room, and he was there. Bernie is packing some clothes.
"You are packing some clothes? Will you go on a vacation or something? I can come with you if you like," he told him. It has been a while since he went on a vacation.
The sound of his voice startled his best friend, and he could see that he is anxious. "I will be leaving in a week."
"And you will go... where?"
Bernie took a step back, and held his bags firmly. "I have found a new roommate. I am going to live in an apartment, Ray."
"You cannot just leave my like that," he said.
"Actually, I can."
He did not know what to say. There has been some friction between them lately, but they have been civil. He could feel tension around Bernie as of late, but he did not expect him to leave so abruptly. Even if he was, he would be expecting some form of a valid explanation.
"No, seriously. What is the matter? Did I say something that offended you again? If I did, I'm sorry. You didn't tell me anything, I would've apologized quickly," he asked.
Bernie could not look at him in the eyes. "I cannot tell you. I am actually planning to tell you the night before I leave, but you have seen me packing up now, so I have to go."
Bernie walked out his room's door and onto the living room.
"You paid a lot of furniture in here. Won't you even take them?" said Ray. Even in a moment like this, when he felt abandoned, left alone, and defeated, he could not help but still think about Bernie's well-being. Where will he go? Will he be safe? Is he safe?
"No, no. They are all yours. I'm sorry for doing this. I know you will see me as a villain, that I just threw our friendship away like nothing, but believe me, it is so much more than that. You will probably know why I had to do this, soon. But now. Only time will tell. I cannot be the one to tell you."
And with that, he went back to his room and continued packing. Ray sat on the couch, with his thoughts in a haze. He turned on the television to distract himself and calm his mind, but he could not focus on the show.
He could hear Bernie scuffling inside the room, and tried his best to ignore the noise. He knows that Bernie's mind is made up, and nothing he will say nor do will make him change his mind. He will probably never know what made Bernie do this, but if Bernie himself did not want to tell him directly what the issue is about, then he has no choice but to just let him go.
Three hours after Ray first daw him with his bags, Bernie has decided that it is time to go. They looked at each other one last time, and even though Ray had a thousand of questions running through his mind, he did not say a word. The moment he is sure that Bernie is gone, he locked the door and warm tears started falling down his cheeks. He wiped them over and over again, but the more he fought with himself not to cry, the more his feelings get intensified. At midnight, he went to Bernie's room, and he saw a cloth full of bloodstain. It reminded him of the pieces of cloth his team with Emily would often work on.
