Behind the Wrong Bars

Behind the Wrong Bars Chapter 5

Chapter Five -- Something is lurking in the dark, something is hiding in the Shadows

When my eyes opened the next morning, I immediately sat up and flipped off my bed.

This landing was far better than the others, although practice did make perfect. By now, I had been in the male prison for about...roughly...four months.

Time flew by extremely fast when one was running away from people on a near daily basis. That, coupled with the fact that I had been dodging Double Ace and his gang, led to a swift passage of time. At least, faster than I would have thought.

I briefly considered what my parents were doing. Were they trying to find where I was imprisoned? Did they even care? A cold feeling drifted through me at the thought before I shook it away. No. My parents cared for me...they probably just could not find me. Which made a lot of sense.

"Will you stop making such a racket at this hour?" Jason groaned, his voice muffled by the pillow that his face was buried in. His blond hair stuck up at the shorter strands while everything else was completely disheveled.

I tilted my head at him. "What racket?" I asked. I had been perfectly silent - counting out my jumping off the bed.

"You are thinking too loud." The man reprimanded. I sniffed. He was ridiculous.

"And you listen too carefully for it." I shot back, batting off his comment with a wave of my hand as I turned towards the cell door, waiting for it too open. Sure enough, a few seconds passed before the buzzer went off and the door unlocked. Jason snorted at my comeback, sitting up in his bed and combing down his blond hair. As soon as it settled, he retied the ponytail. I followed his actions and undid my hair from the black hair tie that I had been wearing since I came to prison.

As I followed him out of the cell, I slid the black elastic band - it was actually a slightly frilly hair tie - onto my wrist and let my hair down for a change. Four months without 'that' happening led me to momentarily forgetting who I was and where I was. Jason said nothing as he, as always, led the way to the shower rooms. As we neared the place, I sped up slightly, my black shoes squeaking against the plastic floor. I came to a halt outside the room, but froze upon entering.

I hand flew up to cover my eyes while my own shot up to block a scream that threatened to break free. Jason pulled me back, against his chest, as he led me away from the door. But it was too late. I had seen the blood staining the walls and the floor. I had seen the body that had been mercilessly carved up and laid out on the floor so that its head lolled back to face the door with blank eyes. Well, blank eye sockets.

I shuddered against Jason as the images kept replaying themselves. My stomach clenched and I fell to my knees, out of Jason's hands. Bracing my self against the floor, I dry-heaved for a bit - there was nothing in my stomach to expel. My long hair fell over my shoulders and onto my hands, but I did not see that. All I could see were the bloodied holes in the dead man's head.

I heard the sound of hurried footsteps, which ran past me, only for an alarm to go off a few seconds later. More footsteps. Two sets stood out in particular. These ones were heading for me. I looked up and was greeted with the sight of Killian, his blue eyes soft with concern and his head titled to the side as he knelt down and patted my back. "Are you OK, dude?" He asked. For a second I was going to ask what he meant with 'dude', when I remembered; no one but my cell mate knew my secret, and I could not let anyone know either. So I forced a weak smile onto my face.

"I'm fine...just a bit...shaken, shall we say." I muttered, turning my grey-blue eyes in every direction but the door to the showers - and to the corpse. Someone coughed. I looked up again and noticed that Jason was there too. The second set of footsteps must have been his - wait, when did he leave?