Page 26 of On Your Life

She’s one of those people that I think I could be friends with on the outside. She’s easy to talk to and doesn’t pry about my personal life or the circumstances that brought me here. That seems to be the norm.

Everyone has asked about my victim and how I did it. They’re all sorely disappointed when I tell them I’m innocent.

People want to know why you're here but the details don’t really matter. I think they’re just nosy. Unfortunately, everyone knows why I’m here regardless of whether I told them or not. It’s like they gave a prison wide announcement before I arrived.

Attention everyone, guard killer on the way.

It’s still working in my favor though because it seems like everyone hated that guy. At least the inmates did.

Several women have told me about what a shitty human being he was or how he took advantage of them. One woman said she had to show him her tits just to get a new jumpsuit one night because her period started.

I’m not one to speak ill of the dead but it’s fucking weird that the prison allows people like that to work here and if it happens here, it could be happening everywhere.

The lights cut off overhead and I decide to get comfortable. I’m exhausted just from existing these days.

Routine is wonderful until it isn’t. At a certain point the monotony becomes depressing. Even with the transition from jail to prison, it’s the same thing but in a different place.

My eyes grow heavy and I take one last glance at the door. There is no shining light or movement behind the glass and it’s enough to let me relax just a fraction.

Maybe he got bored with his games. Or maybe they’re about to get worse. Sleep finds me before I can debate any further.

***

I wake with a jolt and nearly hit my head on the wall beside my bunk. Sitting up, I look around trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. My brain automatically searches for a clock before I remember that I’m in a fucking cage and don’t have access to one.

My body hits the mat hard as I throw myself back and try to force my eyes shut. I’m used to sleeping in silence with nothing but a fan blowing for background noise.

Someone is snoring in the pod and the sound bounces all around me. Hopefully I get my commissary money soon so I can buy some earplugs and actually get some modicum of sleep here.

As I close my eyes, I feel a presence in the room that I can’t quite shake. My skin crawls and I open my eyes to glance around the room.

There’s nothing. The same boring four walls that were there a few hours ago.

I attempt to get comfortable again but the feeling doesn’t leave. Someone else is here.

My intuition wins again.

Before I can scream a hand lands over my mouth and an unwelcome familiar face hovers over me.

He jumped to the top bunk so fast I didn’t notice until it was too late. Strong thighs pin me in place.

My nose is still free and I take in as many quick breaths as I can to control the panic. I can hear the air rushing over his fingers.

I wonder how long it takes to suffocate. I wonder if it hurts to die like that.

He leans down, his nose tracing up the side of my throat. I attempt to turn my head away at the unexpected contact but he holds it firmly in place.

“Miss me, little killer?”

Tears begin to well up in my eyes. I hate myself for them. He lets out a quiet laugh at the sight of me shaking beneath him.

“I think you did. And you know what? I kind of missed you too.” He pulls something from his pocket, his hand loosening from my face just a fraction and I suck in more air through my lips. “I’m going to let go of your mouth. You do not scream, understand?”

I nod quickly.

“Say, yes officer,” he demands.

“Y-yes officer,” I whisper into his palm.