Thief

III.

After about 3 hours, I was taken into a large auditorium, with many Coronians lining the seats. In the center of the room, sat a tall, old man, with a pipe sticking out of the side of his mouth, staring at me with a distasteful look; to my right was Elijah Callaway, trying his best to look innocent.

            "SILENCE!" the distinguished man yelled. Immediately, all conversations sputtered out, and you could only hear his voice, "TODAY, WE WILL DECIDE WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO THESE TO MEN: ELIJAH CALLAWAY," he paused, "AND EUG-"As I noticed him, the man who earlier entered my room, whispered something to the tall man before he spoke again: "AND FLYNN RIDER!" The conversations broke out again. "ORDER, ORDER!"

            Then it happened:

After the man heard both of our stories, he decided that we both had done wrong, whoever's story was the truth, and put us both in jail, sentenced for 2 years. I was put into a cell with 3 other men. They asked my name. "Flynn Rider." I answered.

            "I am William Rowe," replied the tallest man I shook his hand. "This is Alexander Downey, and finally, this is Francis Jacobs" I shook all of their hands, and after they told me how they arrived in this place, I told them mine.

            We seemed to all click. We all had common likes and dislikes, and we became friends. But I was tired of this place. After a month, the experience had changed me: my chest grew out, my arms thickened; I became a little more isolated; I lived in the shadows.

            Prison changes you, in ways both good and bad: I've learned to stand up for myself, but my demeanor has changed; I have become angrier, and more hateful.

+ + +

At the mess hall is when things changed for me, most.

            I walked up to Joseph, who was distributing the food to us. I grabbed an apple, a sandwich, and sat down at my bench. After I finished my apple, down to the core, two men, each a foot taller than me, and double the weight and width, sat down to either side of me. After five minutes of complete silence between me and the duo, the man to my right finally spoke up:

            "Rider, is it?" His scar, right beneath his mouth, twitched at every one of his words.

            "Yeah..." I replied, with a condescending tone. Why should I tell them anything else?

            "Wanna' get out?" asked the other man to the right, with an eye-patch.

            "Of..?" I replied. The two men looked at each other as if I were a complete ass. "What?" I said. Now they're looking at me. "Okay, okay..." I started laughing. "So, what are you talking about?" I said fairly seriously after Id had my fun.

            "Okay. Listen-"

            "Do even I have a choice?"

            "No. So, here's the plan..."

+ + +

 "I don't know your names," I said, as we were escorted back to our cells.

            "The Stabbington's," they simultaneously answered, "Tomorrow?" they asked. I nodded.

            I smiled as I lay down on my cot that night. I'll be gone soon. I thought.

            Soon.