Naloxone

1

Warning!!! This book contains mention of suicide /self harm, drug overdose, domestic violence, abuse, murder, drugs, language, sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

I own everything but the suicideboys Charecters and songs mentioned or used in this story
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I stood in the line of other inmates waiting to be searched coming back in from the main yard. The time spent outside was pointless in my eyes I had always been told by guards or the warden that we got yard time to "have time to relax feel free for a moment and have a sense of finding your self and belonging". It was all bullshit nothing about that made any of us feel free or find one's self just made me at least feel like I was a kid in a private school wearing a uniform sitting in a yard not aloud to do anything without being punished if I did the slightest things wrong under the strict rules.

I stepped forward, opening my arms and stepping slightly wide while being searched by the guard. Of course, I had nothing. I wasn't about to get caught with anything. If I didn't do anything bad, i could get out early, possibly. I got into my cell watching as six diffrent guys ran down the hall at a guy who was just done being searched and tackled him holding him to the ground as they started beating the living shit out of him the guards wearnt in a huge rush to get to the guy being beat. They were letting it happen, and for good reason, the guy was booked in for rape charges and beating his wife. Peice of shit. It made me happy to see that happen, but at the same time, it brought me back to why I was in this shit hole in the first place.

I had a best friend, her name was Jazzy or at least that's what I called her. We had been friends since second grade when she fell and scraped her knee, and I cleaned it up and made sure she was OK. Later on down the road in our later years, we were twenty, to be exact. Jazzy had gotten a boyfriend a douchy one at that was mean to her, and I nor did the rest of our friends like the way he treated her.

We knew where the bruises on her skin were from. We knew why anytime we called. She always talked quiet and, with a shaky voice, nervous to talk too loud. It was cause of him. His name was Eric, and he was an arragant prick. I argued with him often, and we got in a few angry disputes. He ended up killing her. He beat her to death cause he suspected she had been with someone else and was planning to leave. Which she was she had had a baby that could have possibly been mine it could have happend when she was over at my house one night helping me clean up after a birthday party for her sister we had thrown one thing lead to another and we hooked up.

I did have feelings for her. She knew and was planning on getting to away from Eric to come stay with me a year later that all changed. She had the baby a little boy with blue eyes and dark hair. He was about two and a half now, but at the time, he was 3 months old when she died.

Eric had woken up late at night to Jazzy, taking bags to her car, and was about to get the baby from his room when Eric walked out and started confronting her. He pushed her out to the front porch of their house and pushed her to the ground, and started screaming at her as he punched her repeatedly.

After she stopped crying, he finally stopped hitting her, taking a deep breath, then had the audacity to go back inside and pick up the baby his hands still covered in his mother's blood.

Seeing that security camera video disgusted me. Something inside me died, and I knew at that moment I wasn't gonna let him get away with that.

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Flashback

It had been about 6 months since Jazzy died due to the hand of her boyfriend Eric. I was destrought and broken I had barely left my bedroom I just laid on my bed cried and re watched the video of the blantent evidence that should have put Eric behind bars for life but no instead he was walking free taking what I hope is good care of jazzys son.

Somehow, Eric got away free of no charges or jail time after killing Jazzy. I finally one day woke up, and something inside me was different, thinking of the way he beat her the way I broke completely at her funeral. I stood up and got dressed, throwing on my old beat-up vans and a sweatshirt grabbing my keys off my desk and the black and red glock 45 I kept in my desk drawer. I tucked it in the waist band of my jeans and covered it with my sweatshirt. I walked to the kitchen and drank some water, trying to decide if I still wanted to go through with what I was about to do.

"Where you goin' bud?" Aristos, my cousin I lived with, asked as I walked past the living room.

"Just..out I need some air," I said calmly, then opened the door, walking out to my car. I could see the concerned look on aris face as I left and drove to Eric's house. I slowly snuck up to the door, peeking inside, not seeing the baby here. He was probably with jazzys parents.

I opened Eric's door, walking in, seeing him on the couch his back turned to the front door where I had just entered. I walked up behind him quietly before wrapping my arm quite around his neck in a chokehold.

Hearing him gasp I squeezed tighter pulling him over the back of the couch and dropped him on the floor before kicking his ribs a few time hearing him groan before I bent down and started punching his face in.

I wanted him to have the same painful death he put jazz through, and I was gonna make it happen. As I stood watching him groan and spit out blood on the floor his face cut open from me slamming his head into the floor and punching him coverd in blood and holding his ribs I pulled the glock out from my waistband and cooked it back loading a round in the chamber before pointing it at his chest.

"You think Jazzy wanted to feel how you feel right now?" I said, feeling the angry tears well up in my eyes.

He just spit out more blood and whined in response.

"Put down the weapon and walk backward out of the house to the sound of my voice till I say stop!" I heard a cop say over a megaphone. I kicked Eric in the head one last time before clearing my gun and kicking the magazine to the cops then the glock before following orders and raising my hands in the air as I walked backward.

"Get down on your knees and interlock your fingers on the back of your head" the cop said and I did as told as I saw the shadow of an officer come up and cuff my hands standing me up and walking me to the car. He searched me, read me my rights, and put me in the car.

It had been a month, and my court date of my final verdict was here. I sat in my red jumpsuit in the courtroom. They labeled me in a different color jumpsuit cause due to my crime, they said I was more violent than the rest of the inmates being booked and processed waiting for court dates.

"Mr. arceneaux, I understand the circumstances of your crime you have committed, and while I in this court room cannot state my opinion on this case, I do have to follow law... Scott Anthony arceneaux are sentenced to four years for the crime committed of first degree assault with the intent to cause serious bodily harm as well as the involvement of a deadly weapon. The defendant is to be delivered to Louisiana state corrections facility."

I listen clearly to the judges words seeing some sorrow in her eyes as I turned and looked at my family in the court room then was taken away by the cops in the room and as promised taken to Louisiana state correction center.

Flashback end
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And that's where I sit now in this hell hole of a prison with two years left of my sentence or something like that. I hated it here. At least I had my own cell, though.