you know what they do to guys like us in prison

freedom

I hear voices again outside my cell, a week since Gerard came and talked to me. His chat did do one thing good for me, I suppose; I clarified my intention. What I want. And that is to die. I put my plan into action; ripping open my skin on a screw that had come loose on my wooden headboard, skipping meals that came through the white door. I am skinny and always have been, but now I felt as if I would snap.

I listen to the voices. I don't have the energy to lurk by the door, but fortunately the echocarries the voice of the guard who's face is not familiar to me, and another. Gerard's.

"Skipped all his meals, lacerations..."

"Alright, I don't need any more persuading." Gerard's voice came out in a snap. He speaks more gently to me.

"Frank? Can I come in?"

I take a second, consider my answer.

"Can I come out?"

I hear the pause; it hung in the air. The last time I experienced such a thing was when the realization of a man who, holding his new bride in his arms, knew he was seconds from death. Gerard considers his answer; one one hand, he knows how frustrating that room must be. On the other, his legal control might not cover such an action. Remembering a clause saying that he has full control over my welfare, he replies.

"Okay." The door swings open and I struggle out of bed, in a hurry. I want to see the outside, one last time, before I am returned from the earth. I am weak; I stumble and trip. By the time I reach the door frame, I am out of breath. Gerard catches me.

"Jesus Christ Frank, you could have told me you were exhausted!" He picks me up, bridal style, and carries me to the kitchens. They have just finished serving, and we get some odd looks. I would respond with a glare that could wilt a rose, but I am too weak.

"What would you like to eat?"

Another choice. I shake my head limply. He frowns noticeably and orders a couple of tall glasses, filled with orange juice. I lean against his chest, not because I want to, but because I feel faint. He picks up a glass, and leans it against my lower lip.

"Please?" I open my lips a minute amount and he is seemingly good at pouring the right amount of tangy liquid down my throat. The juice feels heavy on my stomach, but I feel my head clearing a little. I stand slowly, without assistance.

"Easy there, tiger. What are you doing?" He smiles, laughing a little.

"You're laughing at me! STOP IT!" I run as fast as I am able, through the double doors.

Gerard sits in his stool, his smirk turned to a concerned, gentle frown. He almost counts down in his head, but still cringes at the inevitable thud.

"Stop it" I hiss at him as he picks me up off the floor.

"Shh. C'mon. I'll take you outside." He carries me, as he did before, down the sterile corridor and pushes the door that leads out into the green landscaped courtyard. It is empty. I lean down and brush my tattooed fingers against the wonderful grass, taking a second to secretly push a new found treasure from among the leafy stems and into my pocket. Gerard doesn't notice, sat on a park bench. I join him shakily, and I look up at the sky. It was the first time I'd seen it in a long time, and oh how beautiful it is. I turn my face up to the azure and let the wind ruffle my hair, taking in as much of the wonder of freedom as I can. My gaze lowers, just for a second, but it is enough. I see a shadow of a movement behind a barred window. Suddenly, my mind is filled with blossoms of blood from gunshot wounds, as perfect as a lover's rose. A gentle hand on my shoulder brings me back to reality.

"I think we'd better go back inside."

He carries me in, and tucks me into my bed. He sits on the side.

"Now which do you prefer? In here, or out there?" I don't answer. He sighs.

"When you kill, Frank, the victims feel as if they are locked up in this room forever without any release. Not the dead victims; the living that you leave behind." I shut my eyes tight, to shut out the sound of him being right.

I feel the weight lift from the edge of my bed after a while and drift to a dreamless sleep before I hear the door close.