Too Pretty For Prison (Zarry)

Twenty Four

April 7th, 2014

Evan (POV)

Drops of water lingered in the air, the sounds of rats squeaked all directions of the prison, there were loud snores and rough whispers that could be heard.

The tiniest snores coming from Harry's cell, poor Harry. The man has been through so much coming here, automatically becoming the target of Zayn and his men which had to have sucked double for him. When I got here, it was quiet. I didn't have issues with many people aside from the guards shoving me around and making me feel small and lonelier than I had already felt.

I got along with some of the older men in here, they weren't that bad of a problem. Mostly keeping to themselves and sticking against the walls like roaches. They didn't like the drama or messed up shit that came with the inmates that strolled the halls.

Sadly, the worst part of prison was not being able to touch grass and smell the fresh air. We used to be able to go out and enjoy some basketball or sit around the court but ever since the killings started up in here, I could say that's nothing new but it was man after man after man, constant death and that right there was fucking weird.

I'm surprised nobody's come after me, at least not yet. Seeing that Harry had already lost two of his friends, that set something strange in the pit of my stomach. Fear, maybe? I don't know what it was but Harry needs a friend, not somebody that's going to turn around and stab him on the back.

Nate and Frankee, I knew OF them but not really sat down and talked with them. They were nice men, that's all I knew. Mostly Nate, that ball of sunshine that came in shy and tiny but he grew into the prison real fucking quick. Frankee was another story, he was very intimidating and knew his place as he walked around here with his chin up and chest out.

When I first seen Harry, I stayed away. Not wanting the heat that came with him but the more I watched the long haired man, the more I felt intrigued.

I honestly didn't think we'd be this close by now, but I am grateful we are because without him I would probably be dying of boredom.

Sitting back on my heels, the bed and floors were cold and wet. The guards thought it would be funny to throw buckets of water at some of us, me being the chosen one. They had stripped all of our beds, no mattress, no pillow, no blanket or extra clothes. So we were left with the fabrics on our skin and the metal of the beds.

They took my snacks, the book Harry had given to me to read and other little things I had in here that kept me pretty sane. The stack of drawings I had saved up from day one to now, my very own drawings...now gone, all of it.

I couldn't stop the tears that took over my vision, sniffling in silence as I didn't want to wake anybody with my dumb crying. I wiped at my eyes, the soreness of them throbbing from the beating I got earlier.

There was one particular guard that always took me out of my cell when everybody else was dead asleep. He wasn't as big as the others but he had a great amount of weight on him, a fuzzy stinky beard, dark grey eyes and patches of hair on his head were missing. He was horrible, none of them were decent in here but to me...he was the worst. He only comes out during the late nights, making sure the others were sleeping so he could beat me silly.

He wouldn't do anything sexual, that would set me off but he would laugh and mock my cries and pleas, he would punch and kick, slap and sometimes bite when he felt like it. Today though, he slapped me around. He got a laugh out of it, watching my body hit the walls and smack at the ground as my legs would give out.

Fuck I hated that guy so much, who would even have a name such as Bob?! Stupid Bob and his stupid beard, his stupid face and dumb nose.

Wiping the last tear from my cheek, I felt awful at random times knowing that Harry was not just curious as to why I had new bruises every other day but I can see the worry in those lifeless green eyes. But I don't like telling people these things, it's a shock that I even told him part of my story and yet...he stayed. But who wouldn't stay? We're all criminals in here, we're fucking wack jobs that did terrible things.