John...?

Part 20

In jail..

I'm in jail. The idiot I am.. finally deserved what he needed.. 

There is still silence in my head.. are my thoughts scared to talk? everything is silent here.. It's cold nearly icy.. It's like that weird dream thing I had ages ago..

I remember that knife.. that has been hurting my fingers. You can't believe how much I would like to get that back. There's nothing sharp in here.. nothing to cut or hurt myself on.. Well.. there are stony walls.. I can pound my head on it.. it will hurt.. but I don't want to hurt my head. I want to hurt everything in my entire body aside my head. 

What if I hit my hand on the wall? It will hurt.. that's good hurt.. it's not my head.

I turn myself to the wall and start hitting it. It's like my body is too weak to hit it properly.. because my hand barely hurt..

I stop. I let myself fall on the bed and watch the other wall.. 

A door opens.. there is police and Paul. 

My eyes look over at him but my body keeps down.

"I had to tell them Paulie.." I mutter.

Paul nods as he walks over to me. "It's been good what you did." he starts to stroke my cheek. This must be one of the dreams. The jail is real but Paul should be fake.

I don't really react. All I do is staring. My life is over. It's gone. More gone than I was before..