WILD BUT NEVER FREE

The Meeting

I had never been to prison before.

Despite the fear that clawed at my stomach, I hurriedly headed towards the bleak building before my morals began to paralyse me. As I walked in, I tried to act as calm as possible, chucking all my belongings into a plastic tray like they did at an airport, except this place was stripping me of my freedom, rather than granting me superficial wings to fly.

I threaded my belt back through the loops and placed it in the tray as well, as I watched for the guard to signal me through the metal detector.

No beeping, I was safe.

I handed my ID to a tall broadly built man with no hair but an impressive beard and he scrutinised it in a way that made me feel 17 again, trying to sneak into a pub with a fake driver's licence. The man handed my ID back to me and I had to hold the sigh of relief that threatened to expose my fear. As I followed the bald prisoner guard, I was well aware I was acting suspicious. When you were innocent in a place that was filled with the guilty, the atmosphere sucked you into a fragile state of mind where you started to doubt your innocence at all and mimic dubious behaviour; even when you were merely a visitor.

The guard told me to take a seat in a plastic chair that looked as though it could barely hold my weight and I followed his instruction silently and sat down. I was nervous. I was sweating like I had been held captive in a sauna and my leg was shaking like a man on the verge of a psychiatric breakdown; which probably wasn't too far from the truth.

I forced myself to slow my breathing and count to ten. Something she always told me to do. Just the thought of her wise words calmed me down and I re-entered the state of sanity that allowed me to survey my surroundings. In between the dirty grey walls that felt although they were closing in on me by the second, a tired looking woman sat behind a bullet proof sheet of glass, flicking through her computer and a couple of guards walking across the waiting room, consumed in what sounded like a pretty sexist chat.

She would've hated it here. But I was here for her. So I stayed seated in that chair until they were ready for me.

It must have been about fifteen minutes before I was called and led through to the cafeteria where they would allow me to speak with him. A part of me wished the conversation could have taken place with a glass window in between us, but the other part of me knew I was here to break down these walls finally, to get to the truth.

The guard effortlessly swung open two blue doors and in the room sat several round tables, some already occupied.

All those people disappeared into the background when I saw him.

The guard muttered something to me that I completely missed as I took in the disheveled run down man sat on the centre table. He was wearing burgundy tracksuit bottoms and a white top, his clothes were spotlessly clean and new, but his face had aged five years in two weeks. It was fitting, since the last two weeks had felt like an eternity.

As I approached him, he looked at me with hollow eyes, his face devoid of emotion. He blamed me, but he was too tired for anger. I blamed him, but I was too worn out to accept the pain. The trial hadn't even begun but the both of us were near breaking point.

I took a seat cautiously, opposite him. His eyes didn't leave me once.

It was funny; the amount of times I imagined this moment, I imagined the sheer pain it would cause me. I imagined crying, I imagined seething with anger, I imagined not being able to stop myself from lashing out at him. But as soon as I sat down, I relaxed.

I was sitting with my brother by choice, after all.

"I was surprised when they told me I had a visitor." He started after a minutes silence; a silence long enough for us to adjust to the situation.

"I'm not here to see how you are." The words cut me as soon as they left my mouth, but they had to be said. "I'm here to talk to you-"

"About the trial-" He bluntly cut me off, his eyes still as cold as they were the minute he spotted me.

"Yes."

"What do you want to talk about?" He slumped in his chair, causing my body to stiffen. I refused to relax in his company, a trait that before used to come so naturally to me, could never be done again.

"How are you going to plead?" I asked him with all the strength left in my body. I was well aware that my lawyer would have murdered me for being here talking to this man right now. But there had been enough murder that my brain had become numb to the word, one more wouldn't cause anymore pain, in fact it might take some of mine away.

"I am going to tell the truth." He answered smartly. I should've seen that coming, he was my best friend for twenty years, I should've known this conversation wouldn't be easy.

"I heard you haven't sorted yourself a lawyer yet." I could barely meet his eyes as I spoke, but he had no problem glaring me down. "I suggest you do."

I shouldn't have cared that he was on his own. But a part of me did. I would be going to court to try to get this man locked up but that didn't eradicate the part of me that wanted him to have a decent fighting chance. There was a battle going on in my head all day every day, and I wanted to try and at least feed the wolf on both sides.

"I can quite easily defend myself, since I'm innocent."

The certainty in his words churned my stomach. Maybe coming here wasn't the best idea.

"I don't think you are prepared for how brutal this trial will be, York." As his name fell of my lips he flinched and my soul shattered just a little bit more.

"What because you've splashed all the cash you have tucked away on some fancy lawyers and you've paid for all the media to be present in mighty force? You don't scare me, Atlas." He sneered, virtually spitting out my name.

"York, everyone has a right to adequate representation in the courtroom. I'm just here to help you because it is the last time I will be able to." I answered calmly, quietly. I dreaded the guards overhearing.

York was anything but calm, "You seriously think you can sit here and chat shit about helping me? You're fighting to get me locked behind bars my entire life for something you know I didn't do."

"I'd leave anything more you have to say for the courtroom, York." I wanted to stand up and walk away but there was a part of me that wanted to sit here and fight with him, like we used to do. Get all the crap out of our systems so we could move on.

That wasn't an option now.

"Deep down, Atlas, you know what the truth is, regardless of the verdict of this trial. I hope you know that no matter which way it goes, you can't run from this one."

The man really knew how to manipulate me, and because of that I stood up to leave. I had made a mistake coming here. I needed to stay strong for her, for the trial. She didn't deserve what was handed to her, by the disgusting hands of the man who sat in front of me.

I stormed outside to get some air and felt my chest tighten as my oxygen starved body cried for help, just like my sister's must have done, in her final moments before she was murdered.