Losing Light

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I pick at my food at my solitary table. I wasn't interested in eating breakfast. Or anything, really. What I did do that may have kept me sane was study faces of different people. I interpreted their body language. Even though my fellow prisoners considered me a stranger, I knew each and every one of them. Surprisingly, I liked more than a handful of them. They had admirable traits. One shared her food with her friend who is struggling with obesity; another comforts a twitchy inmate who seems to have an obsession with eggs; a pacifistic punk covered in tattoos stops a fight from going on with just a glance. I guess they, along with me, were unlucky enough to end up here. I chuckle to myself. Reyna would've teased me about my observant nature, something that was almost always confused with creepiness.

Ah, jeez. Not Reyna again.

Fortunately for me, a distraction from my ex-fiancé comes in the form of a guard. She taps me on the shoulder and says, "You've got a visitor."

"I thought I wasn't getting any visitors."

She taps her foot impatiently. "An exception has been made.

For proficient behavior."

I shrug and follow her. A face from behind the glass greets me with the phone already pressed against their ear.

I sit, stunned, and pick up the phone. "Sean?"

My brother smiles at me. "Violet!"

He's grown. Taller, with the air of an awkward young boy. But not just in height. Like he's been exposed to too many different complexities and has barely managed to pull himself together.

We look more alike than ever.

"How is it here?" Sean asks. "Do they give you gross food?"

"It's okay. Our chefs are world-class professionals. The food they serve are better than Mom's."

"Really?" he says, eyes wide.

"Yeah." I say. His smile grows by every lie that slips out of my mouth. "They have these gorgeous, wooden, round tables. In the middle of every table, there's a different flower in the nicest vase you've ever seen."

"Wow! Prison sounds great."

My smile drops. I didn't want him to get a good image of jail. "But the beds are uncomfortable. I have to wait an hour to finally fall asleep. And you have to use the bathroom without any privacy, for the whole world to see. It's embarrassing, Sean. Christ, the books are really crappy. It's insane. I think I even saw a rat in my cell. It was so bad. You'd hate this place. You're a bit too soft for prison cells."

His smile drops just a bit, then a neutral expression crawls in its place. He's trying to stay strong, I think. For me. I resist the urge to laugh at how he has reversed our roles. I, the murderer of the bully-child, am being protected by the victim of the bully. Oh, the irony. I bite my tongue to keep myself in check.

"But I'm okay. Don't worry, alright?"

He nods glumly. A guard chimes in and says, "Two minutes."

I look at his innocent face. He was too young, too innocent to have to deal with an imprisoned older sister who murdered his bully. This must have been so confusing for the poor boy. I wanted to hold and comfort him. But all I could do was put my hand on the glass and hope he would do the same.

"I love you, kiddo." I say softly into the phone. "Take care of yourself, alright? For me."

"Okay." Sean replies shakily, and puts his softer, bigger hand on the other side of the glass, right where my hand is. I swear I can feel the warmth coming from his hand.

"Time's up." The guard on watch says. Sean gets up from his chair without a word and exits. I sigh and bite back a whimper as I am led into my cell.

As familiar and comfortable this is, I realize how sad it is to be imprisoned like an animal. To not be free to do as you please whenever you feel like it. And especially not to be able to see your loved ones. Instead of being safe in my little apartment with Reyna, not too far away from my loving family, I am here. I am here pissing in front of other people and being stripped of privacy. My every move is being calculated into a prediction of what I may do next. What I want to do next is to just sleep next to Reyna again. I want to hold her and just breathe her in.

God, how I wish I hadn't pushed the kid-Ethan, I remind myself. He wasn't just a kid. He was a life.