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'Help!! Please! I'M BEGGING YOU!!' Written dented sharp into my arm. The marks around it bruised... somehow the larger muscles of my forearm have been so fragmented by cuts I've been earning at midnight, that I've lost track who must've shanked me at night. Still, even with all the loose hair overtop my arm, i can see it clear as day. I cant roll down my thick orange sleeve, it pains too greatly.

Why does it seem so familiar? 'Help!! Please! I'M BEGGING YOU!!'

"Red... Red... Gramps? Grampa! Hey, Grampa!" The sound of a young girls voice shouted in front of me.

I snap back into reality in a fit of confusion. "Huh?! Wha?!" I looked around and my reality comes back to be at full force.

A barrier between me and the girl. Shes holdig a phone attached the same cubicle she sits inside as were talking facing each other.

She wasnt my grandaughter. Were not related at all. Yet this girl, sitting on the other side of this thick glass window of scratches... i know her all to well. My other arm, covered in drool slaps the telephone dangling on my side into my ear, "Ch-Ch... Cher~"

I feel a sharp hard grip on my roght shoulder. And with a fast look at the uniformed man behind me, drool dripping down my chin, he speaks formerly, "Back into your cell now, Red. Ok?"

I nod with no hesitation.

I took a look back at the young girl on the other side of the thick glass as i was already standing up.

"Bye Gramps... ah... Red." I could faintly hear from the phone. I raise my hand for her quietly and started walking with the guard.

She slowly waves back to me before the guard shoves me out of sight.

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