Convicted Love (Prison Break)

Chapter 3 - Houdini

Sorry for taking a while to update, but here is chapter 3 😊

❗️UNEDITED❗️

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      I stand there mentally cursing my predicament as I hear the familiar buzzer ring out, signalling that the guard has left this highly quarantined area. All that remains is me and all of the other prisoners around me, some of which I am certain I'll have uncomfortable run ins with if I'm in here for to long.

      After fully assessing my situation a little longer, I turn around to greet the cell that is officially my new home, and my new hell. Four walls, 3 of which are thick cement. Nothing more, nothing less. My new bunk is lined against the right wall near the front of the cell, just out of the way of the door. Towards the end of the bed on the far end of the cell is a stainless steel toilet, and next to that is a diminutive table holding a few unidentified items.

      Kind of homey. Not.

      I step over to my bunk and take a seat on the bottom, scooting backwards until my back hits the wall. Bringing my knees to my chest and resting my arms across them, I lower my head in defeat. I sit here silently, huddled up like a scared child on timeout as my eyes remain glued towards the door, praying that it never open.

      These unhygienic cell walls are engulfed in the depression filled dampness that is surrounding everything in my life now. It is as damp as early-morning dew on the grass.

      The toilet that is positioned just behind my insalubrious bed reminds me just how bad this is going to be. No freedom, no privacy, no proper treatment, nothing even remotely close to making someone feel human or at home. This is officially the bane of my existence, and it could have been avoided.

      I feel secluded here. The walls are closing in on me as my anxiety kicks into overdrive. I feel claustrophobic in this small space, but I don't let it get the best of me. Showing any weakness in a place like this isn't an option, and I won't put myself at risk of showing just how bad I'm feeling in here.

      I have to get out of this crap, I think to myself as I glance down at the restraints that are still in place.

I jump slightly as a loud buzzer echoes throughout the enclosed space, followed by a vast amount of shouts and cheers. My eyes dart to the cell door, and my heart plummets as I see the ones across from me sliding open right before my eyes.

I'm so dead.

My eyes dart around the room and study everything around me curiously, an overwhelming sense of urgency coursing through me now at the prospect of those doors opening and me being restrained with no way to protect myself. I don't see anything of interest, but the old prisoner might have left behind something of value during his hasty removal from this cell. It's worth a shot to check everything out just in case.

      "Hey, fresh meat!" I hear from the level beneath the balcony cells. "I'm coming for you."

      "Nah, I got dibs!" Another inmate states.

      Ignoring the disgusting pigs with an irritated eye roll, I slide off of the bed with my wrists becoming increasingly more raw by the minute. I scour the miscellaneous things on the desk, but all I see is a notebook, a pen, a lamp, and some random loose papers scrawled on. None of that is the type of thing I'm looking for. To the best of my ability I start to search the pillow and mattress on the top bunk. Maybe there's something useful hidden away. I could have used the spring out of the pen, but it would take far too long to straighten out in order to add the bends I need.

      "Jackpot," I smile to myself when my taut hands find their way to a couple of bobby pins stuffed inside a hole in the mattress.

      I quickly pull them from inside the top bunk and get straight to work prepping one of the pins to pick the lock on my handcuffs. It's quite simple once you've had some practice, and I'm sad to say that I've had plenty of it throughout the entirety of my life.

      I put the needed bends in my bobby pin as best as I can with my limited movement, and I study the lock to see if it's a single lock, or a double lock before I proceed. Lucky for me, it's only a single, which is much easier than the double. I ease the pin into the lock at the proper angle, rotating it until I feel the one side fall loose. Not wasting any time, I free my other wrist, then move down to the shackles. Soon they are laying in a small heap on the floor at the side of my bunk, and I'm free. Well, kind of.

      "Thank god," I breathe, rubbing the sensitive flesh on my wrists that has been chewed at by the cuffs for a solid 8 hours now.

      I sit down at the edge of my bed with a heavy sigh as I massage the circulation back into my hands. Flexing my hands into fists vigorously to release the tension in my muscles brings more relief than I originally thought I'd have, but I won't complain. I feel more free already.

      When I glance out of the cell door, I finally realize that all the other cells are opened up now. I also notice the blue-eyed man with the brooding good looks and dark buzzed off hair from earlier, his posture relaxed while he leans on the railing in front of my cell with his arms crossed over his chest, one leg crossed in front of the other casually. His eyes are trained on me, a deep look apparent in them vaguely masked by intense curiosity. His cellmate, who looks to be of Puerto Rican decent, is planted next to him with his eyes slightly wide and his jaw slack. They both share the same pleasantly surprised expression, but also the look of being caught off guard by what I've just done, and I'm suddenly worried that they might rat me out.

      Off to a great start, Alexa. 45 minutes in and you're already going to be tossed in the hole.