Serendipity

Chapter 23. Don't Judge Me

Chapter Twenty Three ~ Don't Judge Me

            Maybe this wasn’t a bad thing.

            Sure, I would have to stay in a jail cell for a year but I could think of worse situations.

            Sure, my dad set me up. It’s not like I wasn’t expecting it in the back of my mind.

            Sure, I lost Levi, Sam, Jax and Melanie. I wasn’t supposed to be friends with them in the first place.

            Who was I kidding? This was definitely a bad thing.

            The thing that bothered me the most was that I was alone with the thoughts I wanted to escape.

            It had been potentially a week since I got in. I wouldn’t know exactly how long considering there were no windows or clocks to see what time of day it was. I’ve only guessed a week because my cell mate said it was Thursday.

            My cell mate, by the way, was actually really nice. His name, I learned, was Max. When he wasn’t a thief, he was a cashier at a local thrift shop. He didn’t tell me his age, but I knew he was older because of the five o’clock shadow he wore, and his face looked aged by a couple years. But then again, how could it not when he hasn’t seen the sun in two months?

            My mind wondered how I would look when I got out. My hair would be longer, maybe. I didn’t think I would grow a beard because facial hair didn’t seem to favor me.

            Where would I be when I get out? It was obvious we couldn’t continue like before, but I bet if Dad convinced me, I would agree.

            I still didn’t know what to think about the whole Dad situation. If I ever get the chance, I want to talk to him about it. He had a good reason. He wouldn’t just point all the evidence to me for no reason. He wouldn’t purposely try to put me in danger.

            Then, I thought about my mother. She was behind bars, just like us. And at this rate, we would never get her out.

            “What are you thinking about?”

            Max’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts and reality dawned on me. I sat up on the top half of our bunk bed and sighed. “What?”

            “You’re quiet.”

            “So?” I questioned. “That doesn’t mean I’m thinking about something.”

            “We’re in a cell…trust me, you’re thinking about something.”

            I leaned over the edge of the bed and looked at him. “I was thinking about life, that’s all.”

            “What about life?”

            “It’s complicated.”

            “Un-complicate it.” I could hear the sound of the pressure ball hitting the underside of my top bunk. “You aren’t doing yourself any favors by not talking to me. It doesn’t make time fly by any faster.”

            “I don’t want to be a bad person,” I finally said, the words coming out quiet and soft.

            “No one wants to be a bad person,” he responded, continuing to throw the ball. I assumed it was a way for him to relieve his stress. “Some of us are just born with it, I guess.”