Mutant

Four

Damich Slim walked down the rowdy aisle. He could see the threatening inmates glowering down on him from their cells as he moped along. He admits, this was something he was not expecting.

"Get going, you worm," said Officer Garcia as she pushed Damich along.

Damich knew he was only seventeen, and going to jail wasn't an option for him. But still, he was here, and it was all because of lousy mother. But could he blame her?
Starting at age six, he had started smoking weed that he had received from his friends near his neighborhood. By the age of ten, he discovered he was brave enough to endure a dragon tattoo on his right arm. And that's where it currently was. By the age of twelve, Damich had bought a gun from his friend Crow, but his parents didn't know about it at the time. That was until he received the nerve to point the gun at his father one time. He could've nearly shot him.
When he was fifteen years of age, Damich found it acceptable to have sex with a thirteen year old girl. And worst of all, the girl was willing. Memories, just bad memories.

He didn't know why he did these bad things. At times, it would just occur to him when he didn't want it. But then at times, he would just choose to do bad things.

Damich was a tall kid with moppy hair and dark rings around his eyes. The rings came from all the times he has gotten into useless fights. Damich also had several noticeable scars on his face and a piece of nose ring etched on the side.
The only thing decent about Damich were his soft green eyes and his small baby nose (which he despised because it made him appear "cute"). And cute was the last thing Damich needed.

Damich continued his walk by the aisle until he was halted upon a scratched up cell with rusty rungs. It looked hollow and gloomy from the inside. He even smelled the wretched stench that resembled pee.

"This'll be your cell for now," Garcia spat. "Your mom should be here to pick you up by the end of the week."

Garcia inched her face closer to Damich's. Nose to nose, eye to eye.
"And don't try anything shitty. This is the Remirda Town District Jail, if we catch anything from you, we'll make sure you're here for life. Got that?"

Damich put his hands back in an innocent motion.
"Alright, gosh!"

Garcia shoved Damich into his cell and locked it with a click click. Then she shimmied the keys right in Damich's face and left, laughing quite happily to herself.

Damich laid back against the inked wall and sighed.
"This sucks,"

"I know right," said a nearby voice.

Damich turned to the right side of his cell to find another inmate trapped inside his own cell. This inmate happened to be wearing an orange jumpsuit, just like him, and he didn't look as mean as the other inmates. In fact, Damich got the impression that this inmate was probably only several years older than him.

"Who are you? Did I say you can talk to me?" Damich sniped.

The inmate laughed.
"Relax kid. I'm just relating,"

Damich noticed that he also had a tattoo. But unlike his, it wasn't a dragon. His were written in words and it read "Hannah" in black inky cursive letters.
"Who's Hannah?" Damich asked.

The inmate faced Damich for the first time. He had a deep buzz cut with grayish blue eyes and a thin straight line for a lip.
His head twitched for a second when Damich asked that question.

"Hannah was my girlfriend," the inmate started. "She's currently going into the 12th grade. I was supposed to care for her, but she dumped me once they informed her I was in jail. Said I was a bad influence or whatever,"

Damich's heart chilled at the thought.
"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

Pretty acceptable, Damich thought.

"So what's your name kid?"

Damich gave the inmate a sword clashing gaze. "Do I know you?"

The inmate laughed again.
"Whatever kid. But in case you ask, my name is Riff."

Damich slid back on his wall and closed his eyes.
"Damich."