The damn metal spring of my prison bed was stabbing my back as I sat, staring out at the basketball court through the bars.
Rain had finally taken a break, leaving that clean smell behind. Tomorrow was supposed to be my ticket out of this joint-three fucking years of scars and tomorrow, freedom. It felt like a dream I couldn't quite catch.
The distant thud of the basketball echoed through the silence, pulling my attention to the inmates playing under the flickering lights.
I let my mind wander into the maze of memories and regrets; Family? Non-existent in my prison story. No visits, no support-just me and these four walls getting too cozy.
That tiny window by my bed framed a world I'd almost forgotten. I wanted back in, but hell, who knows what's waiting for me on the other side.
I stood up, the squeaky bedspring reluctantly giving me freedom from its cold embrace, and made my way to the tiny sink in the corner.
As I gazed into the shattered mirror, I couldn't help but see a version of myself that was lost and overwhelmed.
The blemishes on my skin seemed to mock me, a result of the struggles I had endured in this place. Dark circles under my eyes, dry lips, and a complexion marred by acne all reflected the toll this environment had taken on me.
"I didn't know prison would make me this ugly" I muttered, my voice barely audible in the cold, damp cell.
"It ain't prison, it's the weed" came Maya's voice from the shadows.
I turned to find her leaning against the wall, a sight as familiar as the damn bars. Maya, my ride-or-die in this place, a bond that's grown over time, the drug dealer extraordinaire who knew how to navigate this mess.
"Since when did you start listenin' in on my internal conversations?" I quipped, a smirk playing on my lips.
Maya just shrugged, her eyes loaded with shared struggles.
"Gotta keep an eye on you, B. You've got a knack for trouble." she said as she glanced at me with droopy eyes, a faint smile on her lips, then looked away.
Our friendship had blossomed in the chaos of prison life. Me, the anger-fueled powerhouse, had run into more trouble than I could handle. Maya's strategic moves and connections smoothed things over, preventing me from burning bridges left and right.
As I ran my fingers along the chipped sink, memories flooded my mind. Four years ago, life was a different story.
It was a regular day, like the one I'm leaving behind. Just 18, dreams as big as the sky.
College, a steady job, a loving family-the future was a canvas ready for my masterpieces. Then came that alternate route home that changed everything. A car crash, a messed-up stranger, and my rash decision.
Her car collided with mine, and as she stepped out, a young girl in her early 20s emerged from the wreck. Dressed provocatively with long black braids, she exuded a dangerous energy. The girl's bloodshot eyes locked onto mine, and a shiver ran down my spine.
"Bitch are u fucking blind?" the girl sneered, spitting venomous words.
I attempted to defuse the situation by trying to call the police, but the girl's hostility escalated. She spat on me right when I turned my body around, a moment of disrespect that shattered the thin veneer of restraint.
"The fuck wrong with u? Who do you think you are spitting on?" I screamed with an expression of anger.
"How about u go and get yo damn eyes checked out ugly ass bitch u lucky as hell i cant fight right now or i wouldve rocked yo shit stupid ass hoe" So, there she goes, spitting on me again, and this time it hits my face, she whips out a blade and start poking holes in my freaking tires. Can you believe the nerve?
I just couldn't hold it in any longer; the anger was off the charts.
In my purse, I found the familiar weight of my gun. Fueled by a blur of anger and confusion, I pointed it at the girl before me.
Neglecting the fact that the safety was off, I raised the gun to intimidate her into fixing her attitude.
The rain-soaked gun was slippery, and as my finger slipped forward, the shot fired off before I could even register it, and I realized what i have done when it was already too late.
I couldn't fathom why my finger acted on its own accord, why I decided to draw the gun. There was a fleeting second of detachment from reality. Everything blurred in that moment-the rain intensified, shadows danced, and the thunderous crack of gunfire shattered the night. The girl crumpled to the ground, life extinguished in an instant. Horror and disbelief etched my face as the reality of what I had done sank in.
I hit the floor, realizing what I'd just pulled off. My hands went shaky, heart racing, and my eye started twitching as I looked at the girl sprawled in a pool of blood.
The Glock 19, a birthday gift from my pops for my 18th, which used to symbolize protection, now felt like a weighty burden in my grip.
Shame, embarrassment, horror, and disgust coated me all at once. I knew there was no going back.
My heart kicked into high gear; I thought I might get a stroke as I clenched the glock tighter. I hurriedly brought it up to my head, attempting to pull the trigger, only to realize the damn gun had jammed.
As the haunting sound of police sirens echoed through the air, I understood that my fate was sealed.
***
Hey y'all, I hope y'all are doing well. Merry Christmas to everyone whos celebrating it!!
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Mistakebound - YBXVON
Romance"𝐹𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝓈𝓁𝓊𝓉 " 𝑽𝒐𝒏 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒎 𝒔𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏, 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒖𝒔𝒔𝒚 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒄𝒖𝒎. 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒂𝒏, 𝑰 �...
