State Correctional Instution for Gothic Punks ((Ghorror))

1. "Mmm baby I love to see that asshole pucker."

I walked up to the blank, formidable building with crumbling white paint all over it, praying to God that this was a dream. This wasn't happening. Soon enough, my alarm would go off and I'd cry happy tears before getting dressed and eating breakfast like usual. I'd kiss Jessica on the cheek because I couldn't bear the thought of willingly kissing her on the lips, then get on that utterly depressing subway train to go back to my also utterly depressing office job. That was my reality, and having it compared to this, it was a million times better. But this? This wasn't reality. It couldn't be.

"You doing alright, babe?" Jessica asked me, squeezing my hand. I looked down at our hands clasped together and sighed. I looked at her pretty face, cursing myself. She was my loving, caring, sweet - oh so fucking sweet - wife and I loved the way she treated me so very much, but at the same time, I almost felt a sense of freedom knowing I'd be distanced from her now. That was the one and only pro about this situation that I'm in.

"Yeah, just trying not to hurl over here," I smiled back at her before turning to face the building again. 15 more steps and I'd be there. 13 now. 12. 11. 10. Jessica was saying something to me again, but I couldn't hear her or didn't want to. The trees were so nice at this time of day. I'd never noticed that so strongly until now knowing it'd be a while before I would see them again. Soft sunlight filtered through the leaves on the trees in front of the prison, warming me inside. I had a final moment of pure, genuine bliss before realizing we were only 3 steps away from the building now and we were stopped. Why were we stopped? Sound returned to my ears and I heard why.

"Babe, are you listening to me?" Jessica asked, putting a hand on my face to turn it towards hers.

"Yeah, I was, sorry," I said apologetically, mainly relieved to have a reason to prolong reaching my death. I wormed my face out of her hand's grasp, turning it back to the building and it's unwelcoming doors beckoning at me to come in. Fuck that dickhead who's not even a real ghost for getting me stuck in this shithole of a place. If it wasn't for him, none of this would've happened and I wouldn't be here right now.

"So, you know how much I'll miss you then, right?" Jessica questioned, making a pouty face next to me, making me scoff to myself.

"Yeah, I know. I'll miss you too," I answered, my words coming out more robotic than I had intended them to, but I don't think Jessica noticed. I watched her as she reached out a hand to the door handle to open the white double doors of the building for us.

I held it for her, letting her go in first, trying to do whatever I possibly could to give myself a few more seconds of freedom before entering. I stuck my face out once more to let the sunlight graze it before following Jessica in, feeling my stomach plummet and an indescribable feeling of helplessness wash over me. This wasn't a dream. This was reality.

We walked up to the front desk together, both on the verge of a breakdown for different reasons. "Name?" the brown-haired middle-aged asked in a monotone, not even bothering to look up from her papers.

"Ric-" I started before Jessica butted in and answered for me. I had begun to really not like that habit of hers.

The lady looked up from her work now at Jessica. I felt her cower slightly next to me under the woman's gaze. "You're Ricky Horror?" she asked in the same monotone, her eyes drooping behind coke-bottle glasses.

"U-uh, no, he is," she said, pointing at me feebly.

"Thank you, sweetie. Next time, let the man answer for himself." she said with a bittersweet smile. I smiled to myself smally as the lady now turned to me. "Assuming you've already done your paperwork-" she started before Jessica butted in again.

"We have," Jessica said, nodding like a bobble head.

"Assuming you've already done your paperwork," the lady continued, ignoring Jessica, "you can just turn it in to me now and go on in for the standard procedure through the door next to me." I wanted to ask what standard procedure meant, but my throat was pretty much closed up from total fear of what was happening at this point.

Jessica took the papers out of her bag and promptly placed them on the lady's desk before turning around to me, tears silently falling out of her eyes now. I wrapped her up in a huge hug in hopes to comfort her and stop her tears. Even though I might not love her the same way she loves me, I always hated seeing others cry.

"I'm gonna miss you so much, baby," she blubbered into my shirt.

"I know, baby, I know," I whispered, running my hands through her hair over and over, wanting to hold onto her forever. All of a sudden, I had this need to hold on to my life as it was now as strongly as I could, and she was the closest way I could get to that. I squeezed her so hard, really not wanting to let go. Once I let go of her, I let go of my old life, and I wasn't ready for that. I don't think I would ever be ready for that.

Surprisingly, Jessica let me go first, leaning back and wiping all the snot and tears off her face. "You gotta go, baby," she said, speaking the words that had been in my mind for so long that I hadn't dared speak out loud for fear that it would remind me of how real everything was.

I went over to her, kissing her on the cheek. "I love you so much, Ricky," she muttered, still crying a bit.

"I love you too, Jessica," I responded, about to start crying myself.

"Hurry up, please," the lady at the desk said, giving us an annoyed look. I grimaced and looked at Jessica, giving her a weak smile.

"I'll see you soon," I told her, turning around to walk towards the side room next to the desk. Before I opened the door, I turned around again, waving to Jessica. She waved back before walking out the doors. I caught a glimpse of her through one of the door's windows, running towards our car with tears streaming down her face, looking miserable.

I frowned, turning back around to actually open the door now. Before I could, a giant-like guard opened it for me, giving me a smile that made me feel uneasy. He had long black hair like mine and 3 piercings on his bottom lip to go with his tattoo sleeves on each arm. I read his name tag; it said Chris M. "Thank you," I said, giving him as nice of a smile as I could, considering my world was falling apart around me.

"Of course, anything for a pretty boy like yourself," he answered, giving me that smile again. I shivered a little before following him into a separate room filled with piles of the same black jumper and the same black shoes. I figured this was the prison uniform.

"Alright, I'm gonna need you to get naked and squat and cough for me." Chris said, leaning back against a wall nonchalantly.

"Squat and cough?" I asked, not wanting to believe it.

"Squat. and. cough. That's right," Chris said, snickering a little.

I took off my black The Cure shirt, black jeans, and shoes, standing awkwardly in my light blue boxers.

"Those too," Chris said, snickering again.

I slowly pulled them down, quickly covering my you know what with my hands now. "Turn around now," Chris said, standing up straight now.

I did as he said, then squat down, feeling extremely uncomfortable now before coughing lightly. "Harder," Chris instructed.

I coughed harder this time, and Chris, seeing no drugs fall out of my butthole, decided I was good now. "You can get changed now," he told me, throwing the prison outfit at me. I caught it and heard him whisper before leaving me in the room to change, "Mmm, baby, I love to see that asshole pucker."