My name is Rex, and I am innocent. But do you think anyone believes me? Not a chance. They show up in the middle of the night. They grab me, drag me outside, and throw me in the back of their car.
“Who are you?” I ask in a panic. “What have I done wrong? Where are you taking me?” They ignore me as though they can’t understand what I am saying. They take me to a strange building, take my picture, then throw me in a cage and tell me to be quiet. My mind frantically searches for a reason. None presents itself.
“What about my family?” I yell at the men as they leave. “I’m innocent!”
Laughter erupts from the cage on the other side of the room.
“Yeah, take me too.” Yells a flat face from inside a cage. “I’m innocent too.”
I glare at him, and he glares right back. I finally walk away from this futile posturing, and lay down. Thoughts still race through my mind. Slowly, like a thief, sleep sneaks up on me, and drags me off to its dark world.
Day 2
I wake to the sound of banging. A man in a uniform is going around from cell to cell, shoving trays of food through the hatches in the doors. At least I think it’s food. The look and smell don’t resemble food at all. I ask the officer what it is, but he has already moved on and is feeding the other cells. I slowly try a bite, then quickly spit it back out.
‘Vile glop!’ I think.
“I can’t eat this!” I yell to the officer, but he just ignores me.
“What’s the matter Mr. Fancypants?” I hear a voice yell. “Too good to eat what the rest of us have?”
I look across the hall to see my flat faced ‘friend’ from last night.
“Are you too high class to eat what us low lifes eat?’ He says. “Well let me take care of that for you. Garcon’!” He yells to the officer. “We need an order of steak tartar back here right away.”
The block erupts with laughter.
“Hey pretty boy!” He yells at me. “If you ain’t hungry, send your food my way.”
The laughter intensifies, but not for long. I take my tray and dump it on the floor in front of me.
Silence falls over the block like a heavy curtain.
“You’ll pay for that, pretty boy.” He says with menace in his voice. I turn my back on him, go to the back of my cell, and lay down.
“That’s not too smart there partner.” A voice says from the cell next door, in a long, slow, drawl.
“What’s not smart?” I ask, more out of exasperation than curiosity.
“Messin’ with Butch.” He answers. “Ya see, he runs this here block, and crossin’ him ain’t the way to stay healthy for very long.”
“Who cares?”
“You will, if he gets ahold of you.”
“But he can’t.” I say. “He’s over in that cell, and can’t get to me.”
“You got a lot to learn, boy.” He says, shaking his head.
Just then, the officer comes back, gathering up trays and putting them on his cart. When he sees my overturned tray, he’s angry.
“This is your first tray, so I’ll give you this one.” He says, while wiping up the mess. “From now on, if you do it again, I’ll let it sit until you eat every bite. You got that?”
