That Life

29 - Everybody has two sides

Timothy

Avoiding Gunner had been the only thing Rachelle could think of doing. He easily gave up the Barber shop, and moved to the kitchen to help prepare the food. Rachelle explained, thankfully, that although he was going to be in the STU, he would still be able to go to his job, but he wasn't able to eat, or even associate with us.

He was on heavy guard until either the baby inside of him was born, or it was lost; hopefully it's the first.

Sighing, I yawned loudly while stretching awkwardly on my bed.

"Can you stop," Travis grumbled, shoving my arm out of his face.

"Sorry." I mumbled, moving to sit up, but Travis grabbed my arm, pulling my back down, and under him.

"If  you get up, Ill kick you."

"I need to use the washroom." I mumbled with a sigh, pushing his arm off of me.

"Fuck that." Emitting a very loud groan, he rolled over covering his head with his pillow. "I'm sick of all your bathroom trips you are making." Travis mumbled.

I climbed off the bed quietly, walking to the corner where the toilet was. I stood with my back to the others as I pulled down the front of my orange pants, and allowed myself to relieve my bladder. Tucking myself back in, I went to turned around, but I was pushed against the wall beside the toilet, my head connecting with it briefly before I was pulled to the floor, a lanky body, that belonged to Steve, on top of mine.

The only sound I was able to emit was a sharp gasp, which in return Steve decided to punch me in the nose, and brutally attack my torso. "Travis!" I gasped out, trying to wiggle free from Steve, although I was in pain. "Let go of me!" I hissed, putting my hands in his face.

Grunting, Steve was easily able to seize my hands. Fear rippled through me, and I let out a sheer scream when I felt his hands dip into my pants. "Shut up, slut!" He hissed. His usually dead eyes seemed more alive and, well, deadly. Arching my back, I pulled on my wrists desperately.

"Travis!"

"Timothy?" From the corner of my eye, I seen him roll down off the bed. "Steve!" As if Steve weighed nothing, Travis was able to pull him off me, and pin him up against the wall. "What the fuck are you doing!" The muscles in Travis's back flexed, and I knew then I was safe. Reaching up, I wiped at my nose, wiping some of the blood on my jumper. "Timothy, you are going to have to call--ouch!" Travis hit Steve against the wall. "Call a guard!"

Scrambling to my feet, I stumbled to the cell bars. "Hello? Guards!" In an instant someone rushed up, and a long key was inserted into the lock. Pulling the gates back, the guard took out a baton, and yelled at me to get down.

I instantly fell to my legs, tears pouring form my eyes at how loud he is yelling. Travis was pulled from Steve, and came to kneel by me, pulling me down to the floor so I was on my stomach with my hands on my head. "It's gunna be alright." He mumbled when two more officers came in; helping the first pull Steve to the floor, and the other handcuff Travis, and I. "Just listen to them." Travis called to me as I was dragged from out cell.

*       *       *

"What the fuck happened to your face?" Paxton hissed, standing from his seat in an instant.

Although my face was stinging, sore, and hot, I could feel my face get even more hotter. "Nothing." I mumbled, ignoring the stares inmates were tossing at us while Paxton examined my face.

"Nothing my ass. Who did this?"

"A door." I mumbled.

Rolling his eyes, he slumped into his seat and started to devour his food. We eat in silence, the only noise coming from the sound of the inmates around us chattering. It was really sad to think about it. Now, again, it's only Paxton and I at a table. Seeing Rachelle stopped coming, it stopped giving Gunner a reason to come here.