Losing Control

Chapter Five

I cooked myself a steak from the fridge. I watched in amazement as it sizzled in the pan, my belly growling with hunger at real food. I thought I should use the fridge things first in case they went out of date. After I paired it with some crusty bread that Harrison had also left me and had eaten every single bit and poured some juice, I sat on the bed, thinking about what had happened. I hadn't tasted food like that in years. All my senses were tingling. I was restless and over stimulated.

Why the hell was White bothered if I smoked or not? It was my own health I was ruining, not anyone elses. I knew that passive smoking was a thing of course, but I wouldn't be close enough to anyone to worry about that.

And how could he possibly know that I didn't kill Billy? And on top of all those worries and niggles, all this stuff I now owned..... it must have cost him a fortune. Certainly way more than the money he had taken from my pocket earlier. How would I pay him back? I didn't want to owe anyone money. It wasn't my style.

I didn't sleep well at all that night. I had visions of White floating around in my head. I became restless as I thought of how tight his jeans had been. The last thing I wanted to do was fill my head with somebody as annoying and frustrating as him. I would have to give all of the things back, I couldn't accept them. That was what was troubling me. Why I tossed and turned all night. But for the first time in twelve years, I actually owned new clothes and had enough food to get by. I had real shower gel and a razor. I groaned, put the pillow over my face and fell into a jumpy, disturbed sleep.

When I woke in the morning, I showered and lathered myself in the minty shower gel that sat on the tiny bathroom shelf. It felt amazing. What felt even better than that was stepping into a huge fluffy white bath towel after the shower. The towels in prison had been scratchy and just yesterday I had dried myself with an old flannel. White really had thought of everything. But why? Did he do this for every criminal he was allocated to? Surely not. How would he afford to live for himself?

I ate some cereal, wincing as the taste reminded me of when I was a teenager and when everything was perfect. It was strange how a taste or a smell could transport you back to another place or time. Those days would never come back, and it was weird to be reminded of them. The milk was fresher than prison milk, the sun was shining and everything, just for a moment, felt like it was going to be OK.
I brushed my teeth and had a shave, gazing in wonder at my smooth face after I had finished. I would always manage to cut myself with the prison razors, but now, there wasn't a mark on me. My skin felt soft and nourished. My eyes somehow looked brighter now I felt more human.

I put on a new pair of boxer shorts and jeans, before picking out a new black t-shirt. The other t-shirts White had picked out all seemed to be way too colourful for me. I put on some new socks, wriggling my feet with the softness of them, then put the brand new sneakers on.

I walked to the college in record time and got my head down for the Math class. I kept thinking of Media Studies and how weird it would be. If White expected thanks then he could shove everything back up his ass. He confused me. I didn't want to be grateful for anything or have to feel like I owed him. The thought terrified me.

At lunch, I walked out of the building and watched everyone go by once again, just like I had yesterday. Only this time, I didn't have a precious smoke. I swallowed, trying not to think of how much I needed one right now. I couldn't have one, so if I didn't think of it, then maybe, just maybe .... It would get easier for me. The thought of heading to Harrison Whites class made me desperate for a cigarette. I took a deep breath.

I headed for class anyway and straight to the seat I was in yesterday, sitting down. I grabbed my notebook and pen, ready to jot down whatever mind numbing facts would be thrown at us today and waited as the class filled up.