Falling For An Inmate

Chapter 1: Interns at a prison

CHAPTER 1

Carter Reynolds

"Open on 40!"

The iron bar door slid open at the sound of the loud blunt bell. I stepped into the dull confines of my closet-sized cell when the door slid shut behind me. Home sweet home.

"How's the eye? Oh, Spencer clocked you pretty good, didn't he?"

I turned to my cellie, lying on the top bunk, with a smirk. "What, you didn't see how pretty I made his face?"

Zack grinned a proud approval, sat up straight with his legs dangling in the air and threw me a fist bump.

I yanked off my grey shirt, throwing it into the tiny silver sink to soak the small amounts of bloodstains off. As I rubbed the fabric of the shirt together with my knuckles, I flinched. My hands were slightly bruised because of all the punching I had done earlier in the day.

My fight with Spencer had been an inevitable one. The guy pissed me off the day he walked in through the huge prison gate for the first time acting like it was no big deal. For a kid our age, it was definitely a big deal and there was no need to be macho about it. I was 16 the day I came into this hellhole, younger then Spencer. And even though I kept a calm face, I was scared as hell. It was natural.

Spencer and I had falling-outs very often but I usually held my composure. Today though, he crossed the line the second he mentioned my mother. And he knew it because there was this look of regret and fear in his eyes but by then I had already connected my fist with his face.

I shook my head, trying to get rid of images of the fight, and hung my shirt to dry on one of the bars. I, then, retraced my steps and came to stand in front of the small rectangular mirror above the silver sink.

I smiled at my reflection. That asshole really did get me good. There was a prominent shade of purple under and around my left eye, with hues of blue reaching above and covering the eyelid. I had, what they called, the 'traditional' black eye.

In prison, it was a source of pride to have bruises on your face and hands. It showed that you weren't afraid to hit or get hit. The inmates wore their black eyes without a hint of shame. If you didn't have scars and bruises to show for it, you weren't considered a man, regardless of how big your dick was. 

I reached up to touch the sensitive area around my eye, only to feel a sharp sting shoot through my eye and head. I, once again, broke into a smile.

Yup, that stronzo got me real good. It would take a couple of days for the swelling to subside.

I sobered and splashed cold water on my face before collapsing on the bottom bunk with my hands behind my head.

As if sensing my desire to get some rest before Prison Industries (PI), Zack jumped off the top bunk, leaned comfortably on the wall and began giving me a minute by minute report of what happened in Gen Pop after Spencer and I got into a fist fight and were taken to the infirmary.

I kept my eyes shut and tried to ignore him so that he'd eventually shut up but that had never worked before. I don't know why I thought it would work now.

"Yo C, I just remembered. You picked a wrong day to send yourself to the infirmary. But a perfect day to send Spencer there. When's he getting out again?"

"Don't know. A week or two." I answered without so much as lifting an eyelid.

"Woah, you did him some real damage, didn't you? That bastard deserves it."

Having heard enough of today's showdown in Gen Pop, I changed the topic. "Why'd I pick the wrong day to go to the infirmary?"

Zack slapped me on my chest making my eyes snap open, and grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "C, there were chicks in the prison today. Real live females. When was the last time we saw one of those, huh? Three? Four years ago?"