Born to Die

Chapter Four

The court hearing was as daunting boring as expected. After several hours of watching people I didn't even know arguing over my innocence or guilt, all of which made little or no sense to me, it was decided that my mental competency was questionable on the grounds of the history of my abuse and therefore out of "the concern for my welfare", the hearing was adjourned to allow for a psych evaluation to take place. When I got back to my cell I stood in front of the small mirror above the basin, in the far right corner of the small cot, regretting the hair cut I passed up the day before. My long hair was yet another reminder of my father's power over me. He never let me cut it, just to prove that even my body wasn't under my own control. Plus long hair had the added benefit of being easier to grip in case he felt like smashing my face against something. I heard the cell door opening behind me and turned abruptly. It was Zeke, staring intently at me. I stared back. After what seemed like an eternity of relentless staring,  he broke eye contact, smiling and holding out a doughnut to me. "Umm no thanks." I said. "Oh come on! I just made myself seem like a hog taking two when everyone else was taking one only. Doughnuts are a luxury here not an endless supply like in the movies. Please take it. At least that way I can tell the boys I got robbed of one when they come seeking revenge at the gym." I took the doughnut saying "you're just trying to increase my sentence for stealing from a cop aren't you?" Grinning, he replied "damn, how'd you know? Indeed that I am." I laughed. "Is that a real thing? Stealing from a cop I mean." Frowning he answered "I'm no expert but I believe stealing from anyone is a crime." Staring intently at the doughnut I replied "haha you're soo funny. I've actually never had a doughnut believe it or not." He looked at me like I'd spoken in gibberish. "What?!? You have not lived!" Tell me about it, I thought as I took a bite.  "Well guess I've lived now. They're really good. Thanks." I took another bite, ignoring his stare the best I could. "So I heard you didn't want to cut your hair. Barber only comes down here once every six months,  tight budget we have.  Sure you didn't like even want a trim?" "Yes fairly sure.  I'm hoping I'll be out of here by then." I took one last bite out of my doughnut while he processed. "I hope so too. Anyway I'm glad you didn't cut it, it's nice long." Woah, did he just say that?? To break the awkward silence that followed I asked if he wanted his doughnut.  He reluctantly handed it over and got up to leave. "It was truly an honour to share your first encounter with doughnuts." I smiled, watching him walk away. Once I finished the second doughnut, I walked over to the sink and washed my hands, staring at my reflection and thinking about what Zeke had said about liking my hair long. But every time I felt it or caught a glimpse of it or have a strand of it fall into my face, it wasn't Zeke that I'd be reminded of, it was my father. The thought infuriated me and without thinking, I smashed a balled up fist against the mirror, breaking it to pieces that scattered around me on the floor. I picked up a large shard that seemed promising sharp and began hacking at my hair. It was quite fascinating I thought as chunks of hair fell to the ground, that one moment something be a part of a person and the next it isn't. Just goes to show how fickle fortune is and how unpredictable the future may be. As I felt along the back of my neck for uneven strands, I accidently cut my elbow which had held the piece of glass on my knee. It stung. A lot.  There it was again, the ghost that haunts my every waking moment,  pain.  I guess it's just a part of life that one has to grow accustomed to. But how could I when all my memories of pain had been inflicted by the person that was supposed to love me the most in the world? How could I accept pain as my lifelong companion when it held so many memories of the man I was trying so desperately to forget? I couldn't; I wouldn't. I would not allow him to have the satisfaction of having power over me even in his absence. If pain and life were inseperable, I would just have to separate myself from them both. I lifted the shard to my wrist and pushed down, biting my lip to stop myself from screaming. My wrist burned, my lip burned. But I did not stop. I dragged the glass across my wrist, not easing the pressure until my flesh was bare and my skin was covered in blood. It didn't seem necessary to do the same on my right wrist, as my vision was already starting to blur from the edges. A drop of blood fell from my face,  my lip was bleeding too. I didn't mind, it wasn't precious to me, my blood, and the sooner my body was drained of the 5 liters it contained, the sooner I'd be free from my prison. Well,  prisons. I was not about to let anyone else end my life but I had nothing against doing it myself. I didn't have anything against death in general,  but life... life  was an my unconqurable enemy. The eternal game of tug of war between life and death has finally ended, I thought as I drifted away.