𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐬

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I park my car, lock it, and make my way into the prison. I get settled and start taking patients and doing checkups.

I take my lunch break to clear my mind after some of the gross comments I got from some patients.

Not long after I have Michael's appointment. He sits down, he's quiet. It's strange, he's usually talking me up.

After I prick his finger with the device for the tests, he asks, "how long does this take?"

"It used to take hours, but we've come a long way with the new glucose kits, this'll take about 10 seconds."

"Slide the strip into the meter and we're good to go." I say optimistically.

I share the info of what the average glucose level is for non-diabetics while waiting for the results. If we see that number, Michael has been misdiagnosed.

He seems nervous while waiting for results, like he doesn't expect the level to be high.

"You seem nervous."

"I do?" he questions me.

"You're sweating." I state, testing him.

"Must be the needles. Never really got used to them." he lies.

"Somehow with diabetes and those tattoos I find that hard to believe." I'm upset, he's lying to me.

He pulls his sleeve down as I read the results of his test.

"Bad news, you're definitely diabetic." I say showing him the device with the results.

He seems relieved.

"Do you need anything else from me?" he asks smiling

"Arm to stick a needle in."

"Okay." he says as he walks out of the office.

"Cute." Katie says as she walks in with paperwork.

"Prisoner." I reply, he can't be cute.

"There's something strange about him. I gave him the results of his blood test and he had this look on his face. Like, relief." I say, shaking my head confused.

...

Shortly after Michael left, he's back again. This time, he's limping his way into the office with a bloody foot.

I orders some Xylocaine as Michael is being brought to the table by two COs.

"Thanks guys, I'll take it from here."

They don't seem to want to leave.

I raise my voice, "I said thanks guys I'll take it from here." They finally leave.

I spin around to check Michael out.

"Okay, let's take a look at you." I say as I go to unwrap his foot.

He's resistant though, his hands are covering it.

"You're okay, you're okay." I reassure him.

He then lets me unwrap his foot to take a look. When he sees what I see, two missing toes, he gets upset, closes his eyes and lays down.

"What happened?" I ask worried for him.

"Nothing."

"This isn't nothing Michael, I need you to tell me what happened, please." I beg.

"Don't make me lie to you. Please." He replies, wincing from the pain.

"You already have." I whisper as I exit the room to ask Bellick to start an investigation but he says there's no need, Michael stepped on gardening shears.

"So the shears went through his boot?"

"Yeah." Bellick replies.

"So why wasn't the boot still on his foot?" I question him.

"Like I said doc' we got it taken care of." He replies as he leaves with other COs.

Knowing I won't get anymore answers, I return to help Michael. I kneel and wrap his foot up. I give him some pain meds and antibiotics and then he's off to his cell.

...

I bring him back in for a checkup later. He has no redness or swelling, no signs of infection. I'm going to keep him on antibiotics for the next 10 days.

"You should be good." I say to him as he smiles down at me.

"Michael, you understand by law, I'm obligated to file a report if I feel there's been prisoner misconduct right? There's no way you got injured by stepping on a blade in a garden shed."

"If you file a report things could get a lot worse for me." He replies back, putting his sock back on over his foot.

"They're not already bad?"

"Not compared to what they could be. I made some enemies."

"Yeah, you scared?" I ask, concerned.

He looks up at me and back down.

I laugh, "Men."

He chuckles at the comment.

"Here's what I think, I think you are scared and you wouldn't be human if you weren't in a place like this." I look away after saying that.

He begins telling a story about how he faced his fear of a monster in his closet as a kid. That his brother told him that, "there wasn't anything in the closet but fear, that fear wasn't real. It was just air. That you just have to face it."

"Your brother sounds like a smart man." I say sincerely.

"He is. In here though, you face your fear, you open that door, and there's a hundred more doors behind it, and the monsters that are hiding behind them are all real."

Concerned I tell him I can have him sent to Ad. Seg.

"With the r@pe victims and snitches." he replies.

You look away at the r@pe victims comment.

"It would keep you safe." you say.

"Thanks, but I think I'd like to face the monsters on my own." he replies as he leaves.

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌. 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝Where stories live. Discover now