Drunk In Love (A Scomiche Fanfic)

Chapter Sixteen - Jail Part One.

Early update yeye

(Scott's POV)

I got dragged out of my cell by a tough looking police man, and got shoved into another room.

"You have 10 minutes, then it's off to the place where you'll be stuck for 5 years." The man told me, and sat in the corner of the room. Wait, this place wasn't jail? Of course it wasn't, it's far too small. It's just the Police Station. Great. I turned around to see Mitch, Kirstie, Avi, Kevin, Esther, my mom and my sister.

"Guys!" They all lunged towards me and pulled me into this massive group hug, causing me to fall onto the cold, hard floor. I wasn't bothered though, it was overwhemling actually. My mom didn't hug me, she stayed where she was, looking down at her feet. I felt a pair of lips atattched to mine; I looked up to see Mitch kissing me passionatley. I kissed him back - I could feel the dampness of his skin as I placed my hand upon his cheek.

"I'm going to miss you, Scottie." He whispered. A tear that he was unable to hold back, fell silently down his cheek.

"I'm gonna miss you too." My voice broke, and so did my heart.

I said my goodbyes to everyone else before finally reaching my mum. I tried to hug her but she stepped out of my reach, shaking her head.

"Mom?" It came out as a small sad whisper. She wiped her eyes.

"You've disappointed me." She said flatly, looking straight into my eyes.

"I-I'm sorry." I could barely get the words down. I had disappointed my own mother, the woman who raised me to be a nice, friendly man. A clever man, who would one day find the love of his life, and start a family of his own. She didn't raise me to be a man who is now going to jail for 5 years for attempted murder. She shook her head.

"My son, a muderer?" She shouted, startling us all.

"I didn't mur-"

"BUT YOU TRIED TO!" Silence fell upon us all as she left the room, my sister following. I sighed, this is not what I expected my life to be like at all.

"Time's up, I'm afraid." The Police Officer patted me on the back. I nodded, brushing my hand past Mitch's as I walked past. I looked into his sad, hazel brown eyes. God I was gonna miss him.

---

I was dragged onto this bus, that was taking us to a notoriously violent prison somewhere in the U.K. There's about a dozen other men on this bus. My wrist is handcuffed to a lifelong drug addict, who has multiple, deeps scars, scattered along both of his arms. One of the men clearly hasn't bathed for weeks, and the smell is unbearable.

A plain, redbrick building stands before me. I'm surrounded by people who have been here before, who know the system, who know how to work the guards. But I know nothing. I may come off as a tough man, but inside, I'm as weak and vulnerable as anyone else. I'm thinking, I have to get through this. I have to stay safe. Stat alive. I tell myself that maybe someone in this prison needs me; perhaps that's the reason life has thrown me this curveball. For a moment, I think I hear a distant voice calling for help.

I undergo a series of medical tests for the next 6 hours. Then I put on a bright on a bright orange jumpsuit and head to my new home; a private cinder-block cell that contains a metal cot with a block of foam on top and a sheet but no pillow. There's a white porcelain toilet and sink right out in the open; I'm handed a towel, a bar of scratchy soap that's more like bleach, and half a roll of toilet paper. No hot water. A tiny window looks out onto a parking lot.