The Deceased

Chapter 1 - December 13th 2016

                                                                          5 Years Later

I took a look around my cell, I hadn’t slept the previous night, there was too much on my mind, after the events of the day before, the fight. I looked over to my cellmate, Jared. Who lay asleep on the bed beside me, I was grateful to Jared for saving me from fights, including the previous one, and stepping in for me when things got rough. I had only met Jared on my first day at the Prison, we both were let in on the same day, but didn’t know one another before that. At first, we got off on the wrong foot, and disliked each other for a while, but after spending some time with one another, we began to bond, and became almost inseparable. Jared was a buff guy, he was tall, muscled, and strong, everything that I wasn’t, and everything I had wanted to be. He made the perfect wingman in any situation, and was all around a genuine nice guy. Despite the fact that he had a brutal past, just like I did.

I couldn’t go a day without thinking about my family, whether or not my mother was still out there, whether or not my girlfriend, Josie, even remembered my name, whether she was with another man, and whether had moved on. I swore that on the day I get let out, I’d find them both, reunite with them, and be happy again. It was all I wanted, more than anything in the world.

Jared had awoken, only to see myself staring at the wall, and tears streaming from my eyes. I enjoyed the silence of the morning, no-one was awake, no-one was around. Sure the prison guards were always up, laughing and joking, but I had learnt to block those sounds out, they were assholes anyway. I thought over everything from my past in the mornings, it was the only alone time I had, Jared snored at the side of me all the time, yet that didn't seem to bother me, I had learnt to cope with it. I just thought about my family, and my old life, and how I longed to return to it, even thought I knew that wasn't possible. I wouldn't leave this place alive. ‘’The morning routine, Is it Corey?’’ Jared said, stretching his arms out and yawning out loud. I simply nodded, not wanting to speak, my mouth was still sore from the fight I had, the night before. ‘’Your mouth still hurting bro? Davis knocked you out stone cold, blood everywhere man, wasn’t pretty.’’ I saw that Jared was also injured; he had a black eye, and a large scar around it. ‘’How’d you do that?’’ I questioned, standing up and beginning to change clothes. ‘’I stepped in for you didn’t I, this shit always happens, I come out more bruised than you do. Davis picked up a chair from the canteen and smacked me over the face with it. Good enough?’’ Confessed Jared, turning away from me.

‘’You didn't have to, I want to learn to fight on my own. I appreciate it though, but you could have let him kill me.'' I'm pretty sure Davis had wanted me killed, if given the chance, he'd steal a knife from the kitchen and finish me off, I'm still waiting for that day, I just don't seem to understand his grudge. ‘’Then where would I have been then? Placed in another cell with some lunatic? No way bro, I’m keeping you alive for as long as I can, you the only one who talks sense around here.’’  However much Jared seemed to sacrifice for me, he always remained loyal, he was my only friend in the whole Jail. But jail wasn’t about making friends.

I always thought that breakfast in Prisons didn't exist, turns out that here, we get breakfast every morning, it's never really good, but it's still food. And for that I am thankful. Jared , me and Davis, whose cell was 2 floors down, were restricted from leaving our cells for the rest of today, due to the fight we had. This always seemed to happen, but I didn't mind, we had our food brought to us, and we didn't have to sit in a room full of nutcases whilst we eat our meals. Officer Campbell was the man who took care of our row of cells. When I say 'take care' , I don't mean give us baths and wipe our asses, Campbell was the exact opposite. The inmates on our row were lead down to the canteen by Campbell. As each and every one of them patrolled past our cell, they stared inside and glared at us visciously, they all looked like they wanted to tear our heads right off. That was the look people like me often received here. I could understand that. Officer Campbell approached our cell, tray of food in hand, he rustled his keys loudly and laughed at us, as we remained motionless inside the tiny compact area we were given to live in. ''I'm sorry boys, I can't seem to find the key to this cell, number 1423. Looks like you'll be having no breakfast today, not that you ever eat it anyway.'' He grinned as he turned around and began to walk away, he was stopped in his tracks by another Officer. ''Now now, don't be a jackass Taylor, give the poor folks there food.'' The man spoke, with a strong and frightening southern accent, he towered over Campbell, and it was clear that he was fearful of him. ''Yes sir. Sorry sir.'' Campbell proceeded, as he placed the tray of food onto a table, and reached for his keys, he quickly found cell 1423's key, unlike before, and was in extreme panic as he rushed to open up the cell. The other officer watched carefully, as Campbell entered the cell with the tray and placed it on the floor before us, nodding his head in approval. ''Eat it all up now, children.'' Campbell sarcastically said, as he stumbled silently out of the cell, locking the door behind him, and scowled icily at us.