South Side - A Prison Break Story

5. The tattoo

Isabelle

It was nine o'clock in the evening, one hour before the lights would go out.
I had slept most of the afternoon since returning from the infirmary.
I decided to brush my teeth and climbed down the ladder.
I had placed my toothpaste and toothbrush neatly next to each other.
I started brushing my teeth and looked at my face in the mirror.
The nosebleed had stopped quickly thanks to Michael's help.
The only trace left from this afternoon's scene was the red mark on my cheek.
I sighed deeply. It's only my first day in prison, and I've already been injured.
And not even by a fellow inmate, but by a guard.
That made me curious.
"Michael?" I called his name, questioning.
He was lying on his bed, reading a book.
He mumbled something to let me know he had heard me.
"How was your first day here?"
I saw through the mirror that he looked up from his book, watching me curiously.
I turned around and crossed my arms.
"Was it that bad?" I asked, teasing, when he didn't respond.
I turned back around and took the hair tie out of my hair, letting my blonde locks fall over my shoulders and back.
I picked up the comb from the sink and started brushing my hair from bottom to top.
Just when I thought I wouldn't get an answer, Michael began to speak.
"It wasn't the first day, but a few days later, someone cut off my little toe with a bolt cutter," he said calmly.
I was braiding my hair and stopped abruptly.
I turned around and looked at him, shocked.
"Tell me you're joking," I said.
His mouth formed a grim smile.
"I wish I could," he said.
I quickly thought about who could have done that.
I thought back to the inmates I had seen outside.
T-Bag and John stood out.
Their whole demeanor screamed danger.
"John did that, didn't he?" I said softly as I finished braiding my hair.
His eyes narrowed into slits.
"How do you know all this?"
I shrugged.
"I can read people's faces like a book," I said.
He looked thoughtful.
"You're smart," he said and got up from his bed.
He placed his book under his pillow and suddenly took off his shirt.
Whitin a second he stood in front of me, shirtless, staring at me intently.
"Tell me what you see."
Something in his voice made me feel like my answer was going to be important.
He was testing me.
I scanned his upper body with my eyes.
I had already seen tattoos on his wrists, but I hadn't realized his whole body was covered in them.
At first, I didn't know where to look.
My eyes were drawn to his broad shoulders and muscular arms, but that wasn't what I was supposed to focus on.
He meant the tattoos.
My gaze traveled over his chest to his abdomen, and then I noticed something.
There was a pattern.
At first glance, it wouldn't be obvious, but if you looked long enough, you could see a sort of network of lines connecting together.
A bit like a map.
It made me feel confused and I furrowed my brow.
Why would someone tattoo a map on their body?
I looked at him and saw the amused look on his face as he watched my eyes try to solve the puzzle inked onto his skin.
"Why did you tattoo a map on yourself?" I finally asked.
He gave me a broad smile.
I knew I had passed the test.
"So you really are smart," he said.
"I never said I wasn't," I replied, staring at him intently.
"I don't know many people who'd hide a map in a tattoo," I added.
His smile disappeared, and he looked at me seriously.
My eyes got lost in his.
God, his eyes were beautiful.
"That's because I plan to use it to escape from this prison," he answered.
My breath caught, and I stared at him in shock.
I had been right. He was in here for a reason.