13 Murders

Tobacco Pipes and Stale Bread

CHAPTER TWO

TOBACCO PIPES AND STALE BREAD

She smiles. A smile that makes me want to scream a slow, sadistic, mocking smile. No, it’s not a smile, it’s a smirk and it’s intimidating. She chuckles and pulls up a chair from the centre of the room, dragging it across the floor so that it makes an ear-piercing screech as she does so.

“Quit it, I’m trying to fucking think!” A man’s voice sounds from somewhere to my left. She turns her head and smirks at him contemptuously then she turns her head back to me, slamming the chair on the floor and sitting down. She leans forward and looks at her scarlet nails, which are chipped and cracked. She frowns.

“We haven’t had a girl in a while… women are just so good at not getting caught.” She remarks slyly. Her hazel eyes look up at me coldly and I can’t help but shiver under her prying eye.

He looks at me pleadingly, his eyes screaming ‘Don’t do it’ but I’m going too, I know I am.

I don’t say anything, feeling brave. I killed a man; I can handle being intimidated by a seductress with chipped nails. Her eyes stay fierce.

“Not talking are we? Two can play that game… Now I’m gonna make a deal with you-“

“For Christ’s sake! Shut the hell up!” The same voice from before yells. The woman gets up from her chair abruptly and storms to the man’s cell. She bangs her fist against his bars.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” She screams. It’s almost psychotic. She’s crazy, a complete psychopath and I’m terrified.

“I-I” The man stutters.

“Shut the fuck up! Shut up!” She screams and then she’s laughing, psychotically, and screaming.

“Don’t tell me what to fucking do!” I’m paralyzed with fear. What is she doing? More importantly, what is she going to do?

‘What are you doing, Lizzie? What’s that in your hand.’

“I’m going to kill you! I’m gonna get you little fucker!” She screams again.

‘Don’t fuck around with me Jeremy, I came here for a reason.’

She’s screaming murderously, banging on something. And no one is reacting, Are the three of us the only one’s in this place? There might only be two of us soon.

‘What are you talking about Liz? Why are you here?’

Tears are escaping my eyes, with shock and relief. I she doesn’t stop screaming I’m going to start actually cry.

A tear runs down my cheek. I can feel the rope in my hand. ‘You’ve been screwing around. I thought you loved me.’

The woman screams something inaudible and runs at my cell, her eyes wild and fearful. I yelp slightly and prepare myself for more noise. But instead her eyes soften and she curls her lip in a smirk.

“Well done kiddo, you passed. The last one burst into tears.” She chuckles and sits back in her chair. Laughs escape from all the cells around me, more people appear, three other women and eight men. They all look amused and a guy with blackish hair and a stubbly face gives the woman a high five. I guess he was the recipient of her little psychotic spurt. She smirks at me again and pulls a small silver key from her shirt, unlocking my cell door. I step out and look around at the people.

“What’s the name? We can’t just call you new meat forever.”

“Lizzie Bird.”

“Electra Valentine.” She says. It suits her.

The rest of them tell me their names in a jumble of awkward hellos. It’s hard to imagine that any of them would be capable of murder, particularly the innocent-looking girl with the big green eyes sitting next to a man with curly brown hair.

His green eyes are pleading. ‘What are talking about Liz?’ He knows, I know he knows.

Some of the people slump back to their cells or sit against the grimy walls. They all bring out items from their secret stash and the man that helped Electra earlier pulls out a tobacco pipe and a box of matches. He sits against one of the less-grimy walls and a girl follows. Compared to his dark black hair and slightly olive skin, she looks pale. Her hair is pulled back in a mousy-brown ponytail and her jumpsuit is way to big for her. They sit next to each other and I follow, sitting the other side of the man.

He smiles at me and so does the girl, extending her frail hand.

“Sorry about the little prank earlier, Electra gets a kick out of scaring newbies.” She smiles. Her face is friendly, her cheeks scattered with freckles and her big blue eyes full of kindness.

She’s in here for murder Lizzie. Not for smuggling puppies.

“It’s okay… I figured there’d be some kind of test.” I lie. I wasn’t expecting to think my cellmate was psychotic bitch. She smiles and then her eyes widen as though she’s forgotten something.

“It’s Amelia by the way, and this is Xavier.” She says. Xavier mumbles a hello but focuses on putting tobacco in his pipe. He lights it, smiling and puffs at it, making rings in the air with the smoke. Amelia giggles.

“Don’t hog it, give it here.” She snatches it and inhales. He smiles at her and then snatches it back as she lets the smoke escape her mouth and hurtle into the air.

“Want a puff?” He asks. I shake my head.

“I don’t smoke.” The two of them laugh hysterically.

Did I say something funny?

“Suit yourself, call us when you change your mind.” He chuckles and puts it to his lips once more.

I pace the room, he just looks at me. I don’t regret handcuffing him to his bedframe. ‘You know what you did.’ I mumble over and over. I’m actually crying, and I have the rope in my hands. He’s looking right at his murderer.

When we hear footsteps there’s a mad scramble as everyone rushing into their cells and slams the doors. Smoke still lingers in the room but you can hardly smell it over the disinfectant in the air. A warden enters pushing a trolley full metal plates and cups. He dumps each set in the front of each cell so that you have to reach through the bars to grab the food. I don’t even think I can call it that. There’s a bread roll and small pot of jam, plus one small pink pill and a glass of water.

Lets correct that.

There’s a stale bread roll and a small pot of after best-before date jam, plus one small pink pill and a glass of luke-warm water.

Yum.