Locked Up

Chapter 2 (Revised)

"C'mon Shyla, time for lunch," Smith, the same gaurd from yesterday informs me.

'Not hungry," I mumble into my so called bed.

"You've got to go, we have a schedule for every patient that they must follow," He reminds me again, just like he did yesterday when it was time to go outside.

"No, leave me alone," I say, looking at Smith.

"I'd suggest you go. You only get one meal a day, you'll starve," Ace shouts from the cell next to me.

"Fine, fine!" I mumble, standing up from my cot in an angered manner. I honestly still don't want to go, but in some strange way, I trust Ace. I think he knows what is best for me to do. I know I don't even know him, but he obviously knows the rules and punishments of this place by now.

"Remember what I said," Ace reminds me. Oh, yeah. I need to get Smith to trust me.

"Honestly, I hate this place as much as you do, just try and listen so I don't have to turn you in. We all know the warden will do something out of proportion," Smith growls in my ear as he drags me to the away from Ace's cell, to the cafeteria. This honestly feels like I am back in middle school where there is always a strict outline of how we are going to go about the day.

The cafeteria is like one you would see at summer camp. Long, wooden tables that fill up the room and a line forming to get food from the workers who got stuck with one of the worst jobs in the facility. I can't imagine ever wanting a job that makes you clean up everyone else's messes. Although, I do suppose that would be better than being locked up here.

I don't understand how I got locked up here anyways. I had a pretty good lawyer, the best I could afford anyways. He did such a good job to convince the judge that I am no murder, but not good enough unfortunately. I will never be good enough, because I am stuck here for who knows how long.

Lunch was just as I expected. Cold, bland, flavorless food that I couldn't even take a second bite out of. If the food continues to be this awful, I may die of starvation before I can even leave here. Lunch was exactly what I expected. Everyone one at lunch sat and poked at their food, no one really talking. The most interesting part was when one girl tried to stab the person next to her with a plastic spoon. They give us plastic utensils for obvious reasons, like the murder attempt that had just occurred.

So enough, Smith takes me back to my cell. Once my guard is gone, Ace speaks up.

"Hello Shyla," he greets me with his raspy, and undeniable attractive voice.

"Hello Ace," I say back with a sigh.

"Bored already? Guess what darling?" He says with a tone of voice that makes it evident that he is smirking.

"What?" I say with an eye roll at his pet name.

"The horror has just began," he answers with a slight chuckle.

"Wow, thank you so much for the encouragement," I say sarcastically.

"Wow, a lady with manners. I like it," Ace answers, laughing his deep, enchanting laugh.

"Would you just shut-up?" I shout, jokingly acting like I am upset with the boy.

"Sorry princess, just trying to lighten the mood. You're going to need the cheering up eventually," he responds, the air now tense.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask Ace, hoping for a yes.

"Sure, if I get to ask you one," he responds, probably shrugging his shoulders. I hate having to talk through the wall. Most people use body language to talk and this wall in the way makes it so much harder to communicate.

"Is Ace your real name?" I wonder, voicing my curiosity.

"Nope," Ace say, popping the "p" sound.

"Why do you have people call you Ace?" This was the question I thought of most besides his reason of being here. I didn't want to make this conversation awkward or I would be bored here for the next however many years.

"I-I'm sorry, I-I can't answer that one. I'll answer anything else but that," he stutters, now extremely nervous. "Besides, I said one question."

It seems odd. Ace is the type of guy that is always confident and knows clearly that he is powerful. Hearing him stutter because he is nervous fascinates me. I know that sounds bad, rude almost. But what is it that could be making Ace so incredibly nervous. There is some secret here, that he obviously doesn't want to revel.

"Why not?" I ask him, pushing him to answer.

"Just leave it Shyla," Ace answers, his tone more harsh than before. "Ask a different question if you want, but not that,"

"How tall are you? How old are you? How long have you been in here?" I say, listing of questions.

"Again, I said one question," he tells me in a joking tone.

"Okay how ol-," I begin when he cuts me off.

"I'm 24, six foot three and I've been in here for six years," he answers me. "Now for my question."

Oh, here we go.

"What do you look like?" he asks me. Basic question. I thought he would ask why I'm here or something that I would be hesitant to answer.

"I have brown hair, it goes to the bottom of my ribs. Uhm green eyes and I'm about five foot 3," I answer him, listing the things that I would want to know about someone's physical image.

"Now that's great and all love, but you didn't tell me what your body looks like," he says, obviously smirking. Of course, I thought this was going to be a simple question. I obviously wasn't thinking about who was asking it.

"Really Ace? Really? Someone could hear me!" I exclaim in a whisper.

"No one else is in this section of the building, remember? Most of the people here sit and mumble to themselves all day," Ace answers me.

"That doesn't matter. You are such a basic guy!" I respond, now in a normal voice.

"Think of it this way, I will be the only person you talk to for quite a long time, so I might as well know what you look like," He says with an almost salesman voice.

"You are literally talking to me as if you are trying to sell me a car. Just wait Ace, one day you will see what I look like," I tell him patiently.

"I don't know how long I can wait Shyla," He tells me with a dramatic sigh.

"What if I'm exremely ugly? How are you just assuming that I'm attractive or whatever?" I question him. He's just assuing I'm some super model when in reality, I'm probably just as attractive as most girls he sees.

He pauses for a moment before saying, "you are beautiful no matter how you look."

Revised on 9/17/14

{Thanks for reading if anyone is... I don't know. Please vote and comment if you are reading because it encourages me to update faster and more often. Also, again, please tell me if you like this book/idea or whatever. That would be great! I love any of you that are reading. Thank you so so so much! It means so much!

~Anna}