cellmates

cellmate requirements

josh's pov

"bradley," a deep, voice called out from behind me, snapping me out of my daydream. my best friend and fellow inmate, tobi, lightly punched me in the arm, and i turned my body around to face a large, slightly annoyed-looking guard walking our way.

"what the fuck did you do?" tobi frantically asked, throwing me a worried glance. i shrugged in response before carefully scooting off of the concrete tabletop where i was sitting. the guard stopped in his tracks, once he had reached our table and just stood there, silently examining the two of us. i took a long drag on my cigarette, or 'cancer stick' as tobi liked to call them, to help calm my nerves a bit. i had no reason to be nervous. i hadn't done anything wrong. or, i guess, nothing that i was aware of.

"bradley, head warden wants t' speak t' ya." the guard finally spoke, crossing his muscly arms. i silently gulped and threw tobi a worried glance, which he immediately reciprocated. the head warden never wanted "t' speak" with anyone.

"why?" i managed to make myself ask, despite the harsh glares i was already receiving from the guard.

"now, i don' fuckin' know, do i?" he responded, in a pissed off tone. "now c'mon, the head don' like t' be kept waitin'."

i dropped my cigarette and stomped it out, before following the irritated guard out of the courtyard and into the prison.

as we made our way towards the head warden's office, i made mental notes of where it was located. it wasn't like i was gonna try to break in or any dumb shit like that, i just liked knowing important places' locations. you know, just in case.

i had only ever been to the warden's office once in my six years behind bars, and that was the day i first arrived. i always had a hard time remembering my first day, because everyday since then had pretty much been exactly the same. same food, same clothes, same routine. the only thing that changed much were the people. every month new inmates arrived, while others left. some months there would be dozens of new prisoners, while other months there would be none at all.

"we're here." the guard spoke, causing me to stop walking and lift my gaze from the tiled flooring. in front of me, stood a timber door, adorned with a small plaque that simply read, 'head warden'. i gulped, as the guard knocked roughly on the door, and millions of scenarios as to why the warden wanted to speak with me entered my brain.

"come in." a muffled, deep voice called out, prompting the guard to open the door and walk in. i trailed in gingerly behind him, taking in the room before me. it was rather small and dark, with the only light in the entire room issuing from a small, red desk lamp, that almost matched the wallpaper and chairs that faced the warden's desk.

"have a seat, bradley." the warden called out, causing me to look at him for the first time, since entering the room. i cautiously sat down in the chair he had motioned to, before fully taking in his appearance for the first time. i had obviously seen him around the prison quite often, but i never had the chance to see his face this close up before.

he had short, fully grey hair, and a small, grey goatee, leading me to assume he was, at least, in his mid to late fifties. his facial features were strong and stern, giving into his overall intimidating look. his frown lines were very defined while his smile lines, not so much. he wore a navy colored suit, adorned with all of the many badges and pins he had earned in his line of work.

"you aren't in any trouble, bradley. we're just here to discuss some simple cellmate requirements." i audibly sighed, as all of my previous worries went out the window. but soon, a new worry entered me.

"cellmate requirements?" i asked.

the only time i'd ever had a cellmate was during my first few months of being in prison, and that didn't end well. the poor guy died from a brain aneurysm in the middle of the night, on the bunk right below me.

"yes. we just need ask you a few simple questions to determine whether you are fit to take on a new cellmate or not." i watched closely, as he pulled out a small file from one of his desk drawers. he opened the file and read out the first question, "do you ever feel the urge to harm others or yourself for no reason?"

"no." i answered, truthfully. the warden carefully circled what i assumed to be the word 'no'. i could've easily lied, in order to present myself as unfit for a cellmate. therefore, i wouldn't have to endure possibly sharing a cell with a psychopath. but, where's the fun in that?

"do you ever hear voices in your head, urging you to harm others or yourself?" he continued.

"no."

"do you ever have suicidal thoughts?"

"not anymore."

"but you used to?" the warden asked, looking up at me questioningly.

"yes." i answered bluntly, not wanting to have to go into detail.

"i'll put that down, just in case," he mumbled to himself, before scribbling down some extra notes on the side.

"finally, do you enjoy other people?"

"i guess?" i answered, slightly confused by the extremely vague question.

"alright, bradley, i'll send someone to contact you tomorrow with the results of this test." he said, as he closed the file and set it to the side. "you are dismissed."

i stood up from the chair and turned to see that the door was already open. the guard from earlier stood waiting eagerly on the other side. i walked over to join him, before he quickly closed the door behind me.

my mind wandered, as we began to walk back down the long corridors towards the courtyard. i wondered who my new cellmate would be. what would he look like? what did he do to get sent to prison? how long would he be in prison for? would he become my friend? or would he become someone i would learn to hate? if only i knew what was in store for me.

woo, part 2 done.

let me know how y'all are liking this, and what i could do to improve, and what you want to see go down.

thanks for reading, and if you want to, vote and comment and shit.