Arresting Attraction: How To Create A Criminal

Chapter Twenty

Sometimes all you can really do is cry. Sit in isolation and let the weight of the entire world encompass you. Let the weight of guilt build until you feel it bubbling in your stomach.

And, when the weight wasn't overbearing, you sat at the cell door and watched out into the open hallway, took in the emptiness, let it absorb you.

I wasn't fed last night. I hadn't seen inmates, I hadn't seen a face, friendly or not, in days. But, I distinctly remember not hearing anything for a long period. No voices, no movements, no gun shots.

A week ago there were gentle sprays here and there, telling me that there was beings around, but since being out in the yard, they had all but stopped.

I felt so incredibly alone.

My hands gripped the bars of the cell, as I sat down, legs crossed, in front of it. I looked out into the expanse of the hallway, dark and grimy. It was straight, solid and the elevator taunted me, promising an escape, if only I could get past my tight confines.

I had tried yanking and pulling the bars, I had tried climbing through the bars. Both ideas I knew were so completely implausible, yet something inside me needed to know.

The rain we had been experiencing lately held around. It was overbearingly loud when you couldn't hear anything else, when you couldn't focus on anything else. It was as numbing as a ticking clock in an overworked office. It was there, and never ending.

From small windows near the roof of the hall came the rain. Small droplets sliding down the walls, and dripping into a puddle on the ground. The puddle had started to run, the floor uneven, as it cascaded towards me. And, even the water stopped short of me.

I sighed, letting my head tip back, eyes closed. My hair, once knotted was plaited into a single braid, out of my face. When you had a lot of time to yourself, you find things to occupy yourself. I had managed to finger comb my growing locks and tied them together into something that resembled neatness.

My aching body adjusted as I did. The bruises were slowly fading, now only remnants of yellow and green. They were there, but that was it. My swollen face resembled a face once more, no longer lumpy and painful. My lips were chapped and bled from anxious biting, but my cheekbones were no longer beacons of searing pain.

The elevator sounded.

I tilted my head towards the boxed room, eyes positioned, focused on the door. I was mildly glad that there was little to no light in the space. I didn't feel so nosy, so afraid in the dark. I also knew that along with my position and the dark, I was barely visible in my locked cage.

The elevator landed, the door sliding opened just as quickly as it closed behind a darkly lit figure. But, I didn't need light to know who.

With a lazy swagger, Jess walked towards me, his eyes trained on the other cells, before landing on mine, his eyes meeting mine.

"I can see you," he smiled.

I didn't move, as I gripped the bars tighter, watching him.

Jess was a simple man, wearing a simple black button down, and loose fitting jeans. With thick cowboy boots peeking out, he approached, stopping just shy of me. He dropped down, crouching in front of me, with a kind offering.

"Apple?"

My stomach grumbled on cue. I snatched the fruit, and dug my teeth into it, closing my eyes and savouring the taste.

There was some adjustment in front of me. And, as I opened my eyes, I noticed Jess on the floor in front of me, his arms holding him up from behind, while his HK416 was placed to the side, out of my reach.