Henry Mills/Jared Gilmore Imagines

The Jailhouse Rock

~Jared Gilmore Imagine~

Jared gets a cell mate in jail. And she's hot.

Warnings: tragic backstory, extreme child neglect, mentions of sex

Rating: 10/10

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"I don't deserve this!" you yell, being shoved by two men beside you, your hands cuffed, with a cool metal wrapped around your tiny wrists, "I don't"

The security guards have tight grasps on your arms and you feel as if the blood flow was being cut off. You felt weak. It probably wasn't just the men holding you- it was probably the orange suit that had an aroma of three week old armpit flavored pie left out on the counter.

"Please! You have to understand that I didn't do anything! I never robbed anyone! I-"

You can't think of any more words to blurt out. You know there were no words that could change the set minds of these men. Though you plead innocent, there's no way to prove you didn't do it, because you did. Introduced as an adult to society four moths ago, and you haven't been able to find a college to accept you, or a home in general. Your parents kicked you out once they found out you couldn't find a college.

You've always been such a great student, a B/borderline A student. A student that should've gotten into a college. But no, Logan had to come last year and steal your heart, attention, and focus. He too, abandoned you after finding out you were practically failing all your courses, and received no college acceptance letter.

Keeping quiet, you eye everyone in the jail cells as the two men pull you forward. Most are talking to their jail mates or singing or simply trying to pass the time with an unusual activity.

Suddenly, the guards slow you down, and one goes to open the cell in front of you. With a large key, the metal clicks and it opens. The guards remove the cuffs, shove you into the cell, your face and body meeting the cold hard floor.

"Listen, this is a very frequent crime- you won't be in for long" the guard says, "no more than three months"

Then their heads disappear form view.

Three months?

That doesn't seem like a short time to you.

You push yourself off the floor and head the the bars. Your hands going through the spaces between the bars, you yell, "I never did it- innocent until proven guilty! Hey! Hey!"

Your arms are reaching through the bars, and you're trying to grip any part of them, but they lock the door and turn around and leave alone without another word.

"You too?" a voice says softly from behind. You turn around. Oh god, you had a cell mate? What if its a creepy sexual predator or a killer?

Your heart hammers in your chest, and you grasp onto the iron bars, your back facing them. You find a faint black figure, outlines by a halo of the light from outside.

"Who-Who are you?" you stutter.

"Jared. Jared Gilmore."

Hearing his voice, he sounds young- really young. You loosen your grip on the iron bars to near him.

"How'd you- uh- how'd you end up here?"

"Drunk driving. My parents couldn't bail me out" he says.

"You were an alcoholic?"

"God no" he explains, getting up his spot, the sun framing him as he walked to the other side of the room, "It was one time. The first time. I didn't really know how drunk I was until someone called 911 on my for driving on the wrong side of the freeway. Plus, it was also underage drinking."