OOC: Coming Back

OOC: New posts will arrive soon. Thanks for your patience.

-E

Prison Break

I don't know how much time went by before I woke up. My stomach and chest started to cramp up.

"I gotta get out of here" I said out loud.

My eyes flicked towards the screens and I realized that I had everything I needed to break out. After playing with the knobs and randomly pressing buttons, I figured out how to change cameras and move them around.

There was no point helping the guys in solitary. I could see that most of them were dead. The ones that weren't dead....well they looked like Eddie. Eyes sunk in, faces drawn...they were banging on their cell doors with their fists. Their hands were bloody and I could see bones sticking out of them, but they kept banging anyways.

Strangely, some of the doors had dents. Those guys were pretty fuckin strong for being sick.

The two guards that had taken my cell were talking. I tried to get the audio feed to work, but I couldn't figure it out. There was a red flashing light on one of the screens. I clicked on it and it brought up a screen that said:

Caution, generator is low on fuel. Please switch to an auxiliary power source immediately.

The idea of all the lights in this place going dark scared the shit out of me. I tried clicking on "Switch back to main power", but everytime I tried, an error message came up saying "Main power not available".

Did this mean the power lines were down? I've always sucked with computers. I decided that I had to get out of there right away.

After fooling with the cameras some more I was able to get them to focus in on the work area. There were a few mechanics standing around inside the maintenance building. Outside the building, it looked as though the main fuel tank had exploded. The charred remains of what looked to be a Corsica sat next to it, still smoldering.

Before I left, I went back into the bathroom to get that night stick off of the dead Kendricks. I pushed open the stall door, and was surprised by what I saw. A blotchy red and grey discoloration had spread from the cuts on his arms that I saw earlier. The blotches covered both his arms and I could see it on his neck. I reached down and yanked the night stick off Kendrick's belt.

He moaned.

"Oh fuck this!" I ran. I burst out of the bathroom, grabbed a chair, and pushed it up against the door. I couldn't be sure, but I felt pretty confident that Kendricks had been dead earlier when I found him.

I didn't feel like investigating the mystery any further. I dashed out of the control room and ran down the stairs as fast as I could.

I found the T junction with the arrow pointing towards the exit. The hallway weaved a few times and I came to a barred door. My heart was racing as I pulled the keys out of my pocket and started looking for the right one.

A angry scream echoed down the hallway, it was coming from the cell areas.

Then the lights went out.

Everything was plunged into total darkness. I could hear several people running, it sounded like they hadn't slowed at all when the power went out.

I had to use my finger to feel where the lock was. I kept trying different keys, but none of them seemed to work. The screams echoed again, louder this time. Closer.

"C'mon C'mon!" I yelled.

More screams. Whatever was coming was slamming into walls as it barreled down the hallway. As I fumbled with keys, I kept seeing Kendrick's face twisted in pain. Why did he kill himself? To get away from whatever was coming after me!!?

I dropped the keys on the ground.

I had tears in my eyes. I could hear the heavy breathing of the things that were rushing down the halls. They sounded feral. They would be on me at any second. I grabbed the keys off the ground.

I pushed another key at the lock. I had trouble making it fit and almost gave up, but then it slid in. I twisted the key, yanked it out, pulled myself through the door and slammed it shut. Something impacted against the barred door and I was knocked onto my back. I started to grab for my gun in my waistband, but it seemed that I had closed the door right in the nick of time.

One of the people behind the door sounded like they were getting sick and hocking a loogie all at once. Then my chin, down to my chest, was suddenly covered in a warm sticky liquid. It smelled like rotten milk and felt a bit like syrup.

I got up and started feeling my way down the hall.

I came into the main receiving area of the solitary unit. This area had windows, so I could make out the office doors and the mini control room that could be used to buzz the door that I had just gone through.

I started pushing office doors open and peeking inside. I didn't know what I was hoping to find, but it seemed like a good idea. You never know, maybe luck would come my way and I'd find a week old doughnut or a half eaten can of tuna.

One of the office doors was locked. I twisted the knob back and forth really fast for a few seconds angrily. Then bashed myself up against the door, trying to knock it off its hinges or bust the cheap lock. No dice.

Then I remembered that I had a nightstick on my belt (Kendrick's old belt). I unhooked it and busted the window in one good whack. Then I reached my hand inside and undid the lock.

I slowly pushed the door open, night stick held above my head, ready to ruin someone's day if there was a problem.

Nobody was in the room. I pushed my way through the papers, checked the cabinets...nothing useful. I pulled out the chair next to the desk and sat down. I started pawing through the drawers. Just more useless office supplies.

Something brushed my leg underneath the desk. I kicked out with both my legs and connected. There was a scream and I got up fast. The screaming turned into someone crying hysterically. I slowly bent down and looked under the desk. A pale little girl, with blood running out of her broken nose was crumpled on the ground, laying in the fetal position, sobbing.

"Oh shit, Hey little girl, I'm sorry, you startled me, here, come here"

I moved the chair out of the way and tried to pull her out from under the desk. She tried to squirm away from me, but I yanked her out after just a few seconds.

Once I got her out, I held her up in the air and patted her on the back like I used to with my daughter. I kept repeating "I'm sorry, it's gonna be alright, just calm down". After about five minutes she began to calm down. I found some tissue and had her hold it to her nose. I tried to put her down, but she had a powerful grip on me...she wasn't letting go.

"I can't keep holding you, we have to get out of here, you have to walk." I set her down and cringed. She had blood stains on her. I looked down at my own chest and saw that the thick syrupy stuff that had been lobbed at me was blood...though it felt different somehow.

Her voice was shaky and frightened, "We can't leave yet, my daddy is in there getting my uncle."

"Did your daddy bring a gun with him?" I asked, hoping she wouldn't say yes.

"yeah, he said he'd be back and I should stay in here and be quiet."

"Well honey, I saw him just a few minutes ago and he told me to come get you. He said we'd meet up with him later."

She started crying again. I guess I have a bad poker face...Her dad must have been the guy I pulled the gun from. How he got keys to the entire place, I had no idea.

"Alright honey, let's go, we gotta get out of here if we're going to meet your dad on time."

She reached up to hold my hand and we walked out of the office.

As we walked outside, the light hurt my eyes. It took them a few seconds to adjust. I could see atleast a hundred inmates mulling around out in the open.

I cupped my hands to my mouth.

"HEY!!!!"

Almost as if the entire group had one mind, they started running towards me and the girl. She screamed. I lifted her up and tried to open the driver door, but it was locked. I shifted the girl to my right arm and broke the window on the driver's side with the night stick. I snaked my hand inside and unlocked the door.

I threw it open and tossed the girl into the passengers seat. She smacked into it with a thud. It made her scream louder for a few seconds.

I didn't feel like fucking with the keys this time. I popped the glove box hoping to find a spare key...there was a screwdriver, good enough. I took the night stick and bashed it into the ignition switch. The switch broke off easily. I grabbed the screwdriver and jammed it into the tumbler and quickly turned it. The starter labored hard for about 4 seconds and then the engine roared to life.

I threw the car into reverse and plowed right through part of the crowd. The rear window shattered as several bodies slapped into it. I switched to drive and floored it. There were people holding onto the side of the car, one of them punched through the passenger window and started reaching for the screaming girl.

I pulled the gun from my waistband and fired one shot, right into the guy's head. The shot made my ears hurt and gore splattered all over me, the girl, and the car. The man flopped away and hit the ground hard.

The Mustang barreled towards the entrance/exit. There was a little guardhouse sitting there. The cheap plastic gates were down, but there wasn't anyone to open them. I sure as hell wasn't getting out of the car to do it myself.

I blew through the gates and all four tires made loud popping noises. I might have gone into the little guard shack if I'd known there spikes at the exit.

The chase through the prison yards had given us a good lead on the enraged crowd. I kept the gas on and we bumped down the road with partially deflated tires. We'd gotten lucky, the tires on this old Mustang were the kind that didn't instantly deflate if punctured. I figured we could go another twenty miles before the car was useless.

I came to a sign that read:

<---Airway Heights Business Route Visitor Parking--->

The business route might lead to supplies and answers, the parking area might lead to a better vehicle. Both areas seemed likely to have people. With the crowd following behind me, it wouldn't take them long to catch up to me at the visitor parking, but Airway Heights might have its own insane crowds.

Which way should I go? What do I do next?

-E

Kendricks

I was tempted to just bolt for the exit, but after what happened with Eddie, it seemed to me that I should try to figure out what was going on. The control room might give me some of the answers I need.

I followed the signs and came to a flight of stairs. I breathed hard going up them because I hadn't eaten anything but two bags of popcorn in the last 5 or 6 days.

When I got to the top of the stairs I saw the door I was looking for. It was made of thick steel with a sign that read "control" above it. I started trying to unlock the door with the keys I had stolen off the dead guard. There were like twenty keys on the ring, so it took a minute to get the door to unlock.

As soon as I opened the door, I knew that something bad had happened in there. The smell of something rotten forced me to breathe through my mouth, and even then, I could taste the sweet smell of ripe meat. I gagged for a second and then put my mouth against my sleeve to make it a bit more bearable.

In the center of the room, a dead inmate lay crumpled on the floor. His head looked like it had been bashed in with a small pipe. It was bad enough that I couldn't even make out the guy's face. I thought about checking his shirt to see who he was, but truthfully, I didn't want to know.

From the looks of it, this guy couldn't have been dead for very long. Every twenty seconds or so, his whole body would twitch. The blood soaking into the carpet hadn't had much of a chance to dry yet. If he had just died, why did he smell so horrible? I remember someone telling me once that when you die, you shit your pants. That might be true, but this smell was a hundred times worse than some guy shitting his pants. He smelled like hamburger that had been left out in the heat.

After I managed to take my eyes off of the corpse on the floor, I took in the rest of the room. One side of the room was filled with monitors that displayed what was going on all over the solitary confinement wing and some of the other parts of the prison. I'd thought a lot about this room in the last few years, but I'd never gotten to see it. It really blew my mind to see this stuff, because I hadn't realized that there were cameras in half the places I could see on the screens.

There were two restroom doors at the end of the room. I guess that's so that the guards didn't have to leave this room to do their job. I poked my head into the women's bathroom.

"helloooooooo.....anyone in here?" No answer. I quickly walked in and checked all the stalls. Nobody home.

I went into the men's bathroom and I could smell shit. I thought that maybe it just needed to be cleaned, but when I checked the third stall, I found out why.

The guard that had knocked me out at the Auto Shop, Officer Kendrick, had hung himself using his belt. His face was purple and his eyes were bugging out. He had a bloody night stick on his utility belt. The look on his face made it clear that hanging himself had been a very painful way to die.

"Oh shit that's nasty!" I said and slammed the stall door shut.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I looked pretty ragged. My face was thin and pale. I was going to need a real meal soon.

I couldn't get the look on Kendrick's face out of my mind. He was a pretty good guy. I know he had a wife and kids in Spokane, so things must have been pretty bad for him to kill himself. For a few seconds I thought about what that guard, Sorano, had said about an infection of some kind. My heart skipped a few beats when I realized that if there was some kind of disease killing people, my family could be in danger.

"What the hell is going on?" I wondered to myself.

I couldn't leave Kendricks like that. I went back into the stall and started undoing his belt. I had to lift him up in the air a bit to take the pressure off the belt buckle. As soon as I unclasped it, he tumbled onto the dirty bathroom floor. I used my hand to close his eyes, and then I pulled his overshirt off and draped it on his face.

I could see that he'd been in a fight. When I pulled his overshirt off, I saw that he'd recently put some bandages on his arm. The dead prisoner in the other room must have put up a real good fight.

I noticed that Kendricks had nice shiny black boots. I spent a minute pulling one of them off and trying it on. Perfect fit. I took his other boot and laced them both up. I tossed my shitty prison issue tennis shoes onto Kendricks's lap.

"It's a good trade. Those shoes are all nice and worn in for you."

The exertion of moving Kendricks around suddenly made me tired. I went into the control room and sat down in one of the plush leather chairs and put my feet up on the control panels. I nodded off fast, wondering to myself...

Why did Kendricks kill himself?
I wonder if I could/should let all the people out of solitary?
Should I go back to my cell and take some of that food from those two guards?

I fell asleep without any real answers.

-E

I Hate Kettle Corn

I stepped into the dried pool of blood. Although the surface seemed dry, it was still wet and sticky underneath the surface. It sounded like I was stepping in paint.

I pried the 9mm from the guard's cold, dead, hands. It seemed kind of morbid, but I was wondering if he'd ever uttered that phrase in his life..."You can have my gun when you..."

I started to move away when I remembered that I might need this guy's keys. I fumbled around in his pockets and got all sorts of blood and grime on my hands. It was room temperature, so he must have been dead for a while. The keys weren't in his pocket, they were hooked onto his belt loop. I didn't see them right away because a roll of fat was covering them up.

I started jogging down the hallway, towards the small kitchen that serves the solitary confinement wing.

*****

It turns out that the kitchen also doubles as the guard's break room. There was a cheap plastic dining table with 6 chairs haphazardly sitting around it. There was a large kitchen counter with a shitty little white microwave tucked away in the corner. A large fridge that looked like it was from the 50's slouched next to it. Above the counter there was a row of small wooden cubboards.

Near the back of the room a door stood open about an inch. Above the door a sign read "Pantry".

I bolted for the pantry the moment I laid eyes on it. I flung the door open and my heart skipped a beat, but as I looked around, I realized that there was nothing. All the shelves were completely bare. One of those boxes that I'd seen the guards with was sitting empty on the floor.

Cursing to myself, I went back into the kitchen and opened up the fridge. There was a half brick of moldy cheese and an opened bottle of Captain Admiral beer.

I took a swig of the beer and spit it out right away. It tasted like it'd been in there for weeks, maybe even longer.

I put the beer on the counter and started popping open the cubboards. They were all empty except for the very last one. An opened box of kettle corn popcorn sat on the shelf. I pulled it down, and thank God, there were two packages inside of it.

I fired up the cheap microwave (which was covered in all sorts of nasty stains on the inside) and waited with anticipation while it popped. I've always hated Kettle corn, but at this point, any food would taste good. I wolfed it down in just a minute or two, got the next bag going, and ate that one just as fast.

Then I went over to the sink, stuck my head underneath the faucet, and turned on the water. I sat there hungrily drinking the water for atleast 5 or 6 minutes.

After I'd had my fill, I sat down in one of the plastic chairs, leaned back, and grabbed the remote on the table. I hadn't even noticed the tv in the corner of the room.

"I wonder if the prison is on tv" I said aloud.

I turned the power on, but there wasn't anything on but blue screens and static.

"They must have cut the cable to end the riot...trying to bore the shit out of us til' we give in or something"

Thump
Thump
Thump

The sound started me and I fell backwards in my chair. I scrambled to my feet and snuck over to the door. There was a small window in the door, but I don't think that whoever was knocking could have seen me from where I had just been sitting. I slowly leaned around the corner so that I could peer out the window to see who had come to visit me.

"Hey, it's Eddie!" I said out loud.

I pulled the door open. "EDDIE! It's so great to see.."

Eddie smashed the door open and knocked be backwards. The back of my head clipped the table and I hit the ground hard.

I hadn't been able to see Eddie all the way through the small window, but if I had, I probably wouldn't have let him in. He had a large streak of dried blood running from his chest down to his left knee. He had scratches on his arms and a gash on his neck that was slowly weeping blood onto his orange jumpsuit.

Eddie took two steps forward and began to dive towards me.

I pulled the 9mm from my waist band and squeezed the trigger three times fast. One shot went wide because I wasn't really aiming. One shot hit him on the chest and the other blew out his left kneecap.

Instead of hitting me right on, the kneecap shot caused Eddie to miss completely and knock the table over. I got up fast and fired two more shots into his back. It didn't even slow him down. My ears were ringing from the gunblast in the small enclosed space.

Eddie slowly got to his feet and turned around.

"Eddie what the fuck are you doing?!"

He lunged at me again and I squeezed off two more shots. One hit him in the stomach and the other hit him square in the center of his chest. Eddie fell to the ground, his face still snarling at me, his teeth gnashing at the air.

I shut the kitchen door. Eddie was still alive. He had taken six bullets, wasn't really bleeding, and yet there he was on the floor, clearly still alive.

I checked the gun, two bullets left in the clip. I would have checked earlier, but truthfully, I hadn't foreseen myself shooting anyone.

A chill went down my spine, I had just murdered Eddie. I mean, he was still alive, but c'mon, nobody can take six bullets and live for very long.

I sat at the table and watched Eddie not die for two hours. Eventually I couldn't handle his growling, screaming, and spitting. I took the tv off its stand and brought it down on Eddie's head with all my strength. It made a popping sound and there was a faint burning smell. Eddie stopped thrashing.

I checked his pockets, I found a pen and a piece of paper with some writing on it. The note read:

I don't know what's going on here, I'm trying to get of here. Most of the guards left a day or two ago. Some of them stayed, but they just locked themselves into their break areas. Me and a few guys stormed one of the guard rooms because we were hungry. My friend Jon took a bullet to the face.

There are a lot of sick guys around here, some of them have attacked other prisoners. The radio said something about an infection in Canada making its way south. They think it might be bird flu or something. I'm going to try and get out of here. If I don't make it, I wrote this letter because I want my family to know that I love them and that I wasn't afraid.

Eddie

In his back pocket I found a lighter. Now if I could just find some cigarettes, I'd be set.

I thought about all the shit that he'd given me over the last few months. I took the note over to the sink and held the lighter underneath it. I watched as the edges turned brown and curled up.

If I ever meet his family, I'm going to tell them that he died screaming.

"Karma sucks, doesn't it Eddie?"

It was a rhetorical question, so he didn't answer.

I found a wrench in the cupboard below the sink. Two bullets might not be enough to take down the next guy that felt like tackling me.

With the gun in my waistband and the wrench in my left hand, I strolled into the hallway.

Just a little ways down the hall I came to a T intersection. A sign read "<----Control Exit---->"

Hmmm, I wonder which way I should go?

-E

Get Out Now

Sometimes when I'm not all the way awake, but I'm not all the way asleep, it feels like I'm floating in water.

Water. I need water.

There are voices, but I don't know what they're saying. I can hear them, but I can't comprehend them.

pain

Pain

PAIN

A foot smashed into my ribs and I stopped floating.

"You need to get out of here, now!" A man screamed.

I tried to speak, but my throat was hoarse from all the screaming I'd been doing lately. Even if it wasn't worn out, it was totally dry.

I tried to speak anyways. The skin on my lips began to crack open...I tasted blood.

"C'mon man, just get rid of him, we gotta close this door"

I realized my eyes were still closed. I willed them open and the harsh light sent a shock of pain through me.

The man standing in front of me was definitely a guard. I didn't recognize him, but I recognized the uniform and the way he was looking at me. The hacks have a way they look at us. It's like a sneer mixed with contempt and caution.

"Hey pig, get me a glass of water"

The guard grabbed my collar (his nametag identified him as officer "Sorano") and began dragging me across the floor. I didn't even try to struggle, because truth be told, I could barely move as it was.

The other guard held the door open as Officer Sorano pulled me out into the hallway.

"Officer, please, I need help, I need water." Moving my mouth caused my lips to bleed even more.

A quick flash of guilt moved across Sorano's face and he looked back at the other guard.

"We can't have him in there with us, he smells like shit and he's bleeding. He might be infected."

"Alright, just finish getting the boxes in there." Sorano said, a bit agitated.

Officer Sorano reached into one of the boxes and grabbed a small bottle of water. He put the bottle of water in my palm and closed my fingers around it.

"Drink this fast, then get the fuck out of here kid. Find a place to hide, and don't leave it. Whatever you do, don't trust anyone. There's a dis---"

"C'mon Sorano, we gotta fuckin move, it won't be long til' they're here"

Sorano hefted a large cardboard box and placed it into my cell. I tried to look into the cell, but I couldn't make it out real well. It looked like there were about ten boxes in there. Each box about the size of somethin' you'd get at Cosco. Is there still Cosco? I don't know if that's just in Spokane or if its a bigger company.

I started to fall asleep again....

"REMEMBER KID, get out of here. Stay away from people, they're all infected. Don't trust anyone."

Sorano stepped inside my former cell.

"Hurry!" He said. With that, the cell door banged shut.

I rolled my head to the right and to the left. The hallway was painfully bright, just like the cell. The hallway looked totally normal, except for the fact that it was totally empty and disturbingly quiet. Usually you could hear people mumbling to themselves or guards wandering the halls. Not now...I was definitely alone.

I raised the small water bottle above my head (I was still lying on my back) and began to fiddle with the cap. When I got the cap off, I sat up so I could drink the water.

I gulped the water eagerly. As the water poured down my throat I regained the ability to taste....and remembered what I had to do to when I ran out of water a few days ago....That memory almost caused me to vomit all the water back up, but I held it down.

In less than ten seconds the little 16 ounce bottle was drained.

Watching me from a cell door only a few feet from my former cell were two sunken eyes. I barely made out the sound of Fat Ass Danny rasping for help before I passed out on the floor.

*****

Dreaming is really my favorite thing to do in prison. I sleep as much as I can because I dream a lot and it makes the time pass.

I have all sorts of dreams. Most of them have something to do with whatever I was thinking about before I went to sleep. That means that most of my dreams have something to do with either sex, drugs, or maybe my kids.

Sarah was born about 9 years ago, when I was 18. My girlfriend Meagan was only 17 at the time. She dropped out of High School to have the kid, because she didn't believe in abortion and because being in school while pregnant was just too much. Her parents pretty much promised to kill me if I didn't marry her, so I put a ring on her finger and we were married a few months before Sarah was born.

The last time I saw Sarah she was so beautiful. The most beautiful little girl ever. She has curly brown hair, a little button nose, and a great smile. Having Sarah visit was always painful. I love her so much....but everytime I saw her it really drove home how bad I had screwed up...the things I've lost because of what I done.

My son's name is Frank. He has blond hair, like his mother. He was five the last time I saw him, two years ago. Since Frank was only two when I got sent off to Airway Heights, we never really had time to bond and all that crap. Mostly I'm afraid that he's growing up without me and so I can't tell him about all the ways I've screwed up...I don't want him to be like me.

As I laid on the floor of the hallway in the solitary confinement wing, I dreamed of Sarah and Frank....we were eating thanksgiving dinner or something....the turkey was literally melting in my mouth, it was so good, but I couldn't eat enough of it. No matter how much food I ate, I needed more. The pleasant dream slowly changed into something unpleasant...I was so hungry that my stomach was knotting up. The food in the dream was just making it worse.

It felt like my entire stomach was on fire.

*****

I woke up groaning on the pavement in the hallway. Hungry and thirsty as all hell, I managed to stand up and started walking down the corridor. When I first came here last week, I saw the area that received the food prepared by the kitchens. I figured if I made my way towards the food area, that maybe there'd be something there for me to eat...something to drink.

That little water bottle felt like all it did was wake my body up enough to let it feel pain again.

Being numb was nice.

I stumbled around a corner and stopped dead in my tracks. A partially dried pool of blood with a mutilated body in the center of it was only 7 or 8 feet in front of me.

In one hand there's some kind of handgun. I can't tell what kind because it's soaked in blood. The face on the body has been ripped to shreds...the head looks messed up too...but I can't tell...it looks like someone bit this guy on his left arm really bad. His neck looks like someone with long fingernails scratched him up pretty good.

Murdered?
Prison Riot?
Suicide?
Tripped and fell?
Sorano mentioned some kind of infection...but this guy wasn't killed by an infection.

FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK

What should I do? If I touch that gun, the guards will shoot me on site...and they'll probably say I killed this guy...shit shit shit.

-E

Airway Heights Correctional Facility

The last place you can go on Sprague Avenue is prison.

I know, because that's where I am.

The last five or six...or fuck, eight days have been running through my head over and over again...to tell the truth, I'm not sure how much time has passed.

*****

Airway Heights Correction center is two prisons in one. Last year I got transferred to the minimum security building because I only got 3 years left on my eight ball.

I was convicted of grand theft auto. Since I'm a repeat offender I got a harsh sentence with no chance for parole. At least, I think the no chance for parole thing had something to with my previous convictions.

I have the same exact routine every day. I get up at 8:45ish, take a piss and head down for breakfast. I'm not really Jewish, but you get better food if you claim to be, so I'm Jewish. After breakfast I get cleaned up and head down to the auto shop.

The prison looks a little like a college campus. The auto shop is across the grounds on the west side of the compound. I spend eight or nine hours a day there fixing up state vehicles. I earn 40 cents an hour. I'm not allowed to earn more than 50 bucks a month. Most of my money goes to buying smokes.

I've done a shit ton of drugs in my life. In fact, I was high on coke when I was arrested. Now obviously I can't get any drugs here at Airway, so I smoke like a chimney instead. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I pretend I have a cold beer to guzzle down with it. I would give my left nut for a cold beer. I'd give both of them for a pitcher.

Anyways, I fucked up my whole system today. Well, to be more specific, this prick named Daniel Clay fucked up my whole system.

*****

I closed the hood on the old Ford pickup I'd been working on for the last few hours. It was going to need a new starter and some other minor stuff before it'd be up and running again.

Eddie was standing around with a couple of other guys near the new Crown Victoria we got in today. There are only about 5 of us mechanics, and we spend about half our time just screwing around. Trust me, you'd stand around a lot too if you were getting paid 40 cents an hour.

I needed some paperwork and I felt like taking a break, so I began walking towards Eddie.

"Have you guys seen the requisition forms? That Ford over there is gonna need a new starter."

"Yeah man, Danny has the clipboard. Have you checked the parts room to see if there's anything in there? I thought I saw a starter in there earlier that might work for that Ford."

"Yeah I already tested that one out, it's a piece of shit."

"Alright, well, like I said, Danny's got the forms."

Eddie and the three other mechanics standing with him (Andrew, Brian, and Kurt) are all quite a bit older than me. I know Eddie is like 40, I think the other three are in their late thirties.

I'm 27, going on 28 this September. Around here, the old guys don't really like the young guys. Before the younger people got here (I'm considered young), this place was a lot more relaxed. There was way more room and the prisoners were a lot less violent. The younger guys tend to start a lot of fights and pull stupid shit. A lot of the violence is gang related, but a lot of it has to do with the fact that about 70% of the people here are in for some sort of violent crime. This place used to be strictly for non-violent offenders.

Daniel Clay is stupid porker. He weighs about 300 pounds and is dumb as a sack of rocks. The only thing he's kind of good at is fixin' shit. Thing is, he's not even very good at that. Half the time he just fucks up whatever he's doing and makes the job bigger than it has to be. He's also a pussy. He doesn't have any friends here at Airway and gets picked on constantly.

As I got near Danny, I could see that he was squatting next to the Corsica that got brought in a few days ago. Danny had a whole 4 inches of ass crack hanging out of his pants. I wanted to look away, but it's kind of like watching the scene of a car wreck or something. You know you shouldn't watch, but you do anyways.

After a few seconds, I said "Danny Boy, I need those req forms, where'd you put them."

"I aint seen the forms all day"

"Eddie said he saw you with them"

"Well I don't got 'um"

I walked a circle around the Corsica, and just as I suspected, the clipboard was on a workdesk on the other side. As I picked up the clipboard, I noticed that Eddie and the other guys were looking in Danny's direction, probably discussing his disgusting ass.

I don't consider myself a mean person, but I couldn't help myself when I realized that I had a prime opportunity to screw with Danny boy.

I've been working in the auto area for six months, but I haven't been able to get on the good side of any of the older guys. I knew since they were watching, I might be able to get on their good side by pissing off Danny.

I slowly crept back to where I'd been standing a minute ago, behind the squatting fat ass. I pulled the pen out of the clipboard and held it straight above Danny's plumber's butt.

Then I dropped it.

The pen landed right inbetween Danny's oversize ass cheeks.

I heard Eddie and his friends burst out laughing almost immediately. Danny tried to whirl around, but since he was squatting it just caused him to fall over. I jumped back about five feet and started laughing.

"Pull up your pants fat ass!"

Danny stood up and pulled the pen out of his ass. He tossed it at me as hard as he could.

"Fuck you, you stupid prick!"

The guard for our work area was in the office dealing with some paperwork, so he didn't hear anything.

I smirked to myself, turned around, and started heading back over to my work area. I wasn't going to touch the pen that had explored the depths of Danny's ass.

Having a three hundred pound fat man tackle you from behind hurts like a bitch. I was on the ground bleeding before I even knew what happened.

Still laying on my back, Danny started punching my face from the side. I threw up my arms to protect myself, but his fist connected with my jaw anyways. I heard a popping noise and my whole face exploded in pain. Danny threw a few more punches, but my arms were able to stop them from connecting with me.

I felt Danny lifted off me and I got up as fast as I could. Eddie and Kurt were trying to pull Danny away, but Danny knocked Kurt down and decked Eddie. Danny barreled towards me, but this time I was ready for him.

I dodged to the right and punched him right in the ear. Danny screamed and held his hands up to his bleeding ear.

I reached over to my work table and grabbed a wrench off it. Without even thinking, I hit Danny in the back as hard as I could with it. I heard a wet crack and he fell over, screaming even louder.

The pain in my jaw and his screaming just kind of came together to make the rage boil over in me. I started kicking him all over, as hard as I could. I was yelling all sorts of shit at him, I don't even know what. I got maybe ten good kicks in before officer Kendrick got to me.

I heard a whumping sound and my vision blurred...I don't really remember getting hit that hard, but judging by the lump on my head, I think Kendrick must have clubbed me from behind.

*****

Being in the hole sucks. There's a reason why this is one of the harshest penalties that the prison system has to offer. I mean, at first it isn't that bad...but after a few days in a small room with nothing but a toilet, and bed....you just want to scream.

AND THE GODDAMNED LIGHTS NEVER GO OUT! They are so bright that when you close your eyes, you can still see them. Everytime I look up at them, it feels like a knife cutting into my brain. I wish I'd kept cool, I wish I hadn't wailed on Danny like that.

I've been singing to myself, thinking about letters I should write, complaints I should file, women I've fucked over the years, anything to get my mind off the fact that I haven't seen or heard another human being in three days.

There was a little letter with my lunch this afternoon that explained to me that I'm in administrative segregation (no shit?! Really?!), and that an investigation was taking place. It went on to inform me that I would probably be in here for atleast a week before the disciplinary board made any decisions about what to do with me.

I'd do anything for a book or a magazine. I've jerked off so many times that it literally stings to the touch.

*****

I'm fucking starving. The stupid fucking hacks didn't bring my dinner last night and there's no breakfast this morning. I don't have a clock in here, so I don't know what time it is, but I'm almost sure it has to be afternoon by now.

I swear to God, if I get put back in the higher security wing, I'm going to take Danny into the blind and beat him until he stops moving.

Who am I kidding? After what I did the other day, there's no way I'm going to stay in minimum security...and I can kiss my job goodbye. The best I can hope for is that I don't get charged with assault or some shit like that.

*****

I've been beating on the door for hours. I haven't eaten in about two days. I've been staring out the little 3 inch by 1 inch long window for so long that the muscles in my neck feel like they're on fire. I haven't seen anyone...I'm thirsty as all hell. If the badges don't give me some water soon, I don't know what I'm gonna do.

*****

I woke up a few minutes ago...I feel like shit. I think I'm running a fever. I drank out of the toilet bowl earlier, but when I flushed it to get more water, nothing happened.

My cell smells like sweat, feces, and urine.

*****

The lights went out for a few minutes, but the backup generators kicked in. To tell the truth, it scared the shit out of me. It was totally pitch black in here.

I'm in a lot of pain. I've been begging out loud for food and water for the last few hours. I can't stop sobbing. I don't know how much longer I can go without a drink of water.

If I had to guess, I've been without food for five days now. I haven't had any water for two days.

There's no urine left for me to drink.

The fever is getting worse.

Earlier I thought I heard screams.

-E