You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison (Frerard) INCOMPLETE

Chapter 27

Most of the night I was awake, I was worrying and drowning myself in guilt over the fact I was about to be responsible for a nice woman's death. My conscience was begging me not too, I had caused enough pain, I had been a part of enough crime, and I could just stop. She didn't have to die; I could put a stop to the whole affair, not kill her and live the rest of my life trying to forgive myself. But it wouldn't stop Gerard.

And I wanted Gerard. God I hated to even hear myself say it, but I couldn't wait to see him. Even more I really couldn't wait for him to heartlessly fuck me. I didn't need it, I wasn't desperate, but I could want it, it was perfectly normal for me to want it. More times than I could bear to admit I had touched myself just pretending that it was Gerard. Once or twice that was okay, but after a while that was nothing, nothing like being fucked.

That night I lay for hours and I thought about the two options and eventually I came to the conclusion, that I had fucked up more than I could ever forgive myself for, I would never be a free guy again. Because of that I was going to kill her. If I didn't Gerard would go on without me, he would keep hurting people. A part of me was slightly convinced that I could reduce the number of people killed if I was with him, after all he would have killed the motel owner the night before we were caught if I hadn't told him not to. Gerard wasn't going to stop for me, so I may as well go with him, people would still die so I may as well get my ass out of that hospital the only chance I was ever going to get.

My conundrum after that was how?

How did I kill her? I couldn't leave traces, I couldn't get myself caught, I had seen what happened to patients who killed other people whilst in the hospital and not only was it really not nice, but it was going to get me locked up. My job was to kill her without getting myself caught or even suspected; I wasn't going to manage that. Honestly I would probably fail and end up having her sedate me before I even got close, which would just get me locked up.

It took me well over an hour to finally work out my plan, but once I did I finally found myself drifting off to sleep, rather proud of myself in fact. My plan was a good plan, it was going to work, it was going to save my ass and it was going to get me out of that place.

The only flaw in my plan was it was going to get somebody else into a lot of trouble. That had me feeling very guilty, but the only three things getting me away from that were the thought of Gerard, of being out of the damned place and the fact that getting someone into a lot of trouble was going to matter much over the guilt of me causing someone's death. Every patient in the hospital was fucked, they had no life left, they had done bad, some of them terrible, things and most of them were never even going to start serving their sentence, because they were never going to get out of the hospital.

I sort of liked Charlie, but she was one of those people who was unlikely to ever get out of the hospital, and even if she did, she was never going to be integrated back into society.

I didn't get much sleep that night, when I finally got to sleep it was already early morning so when I was awoken at seven thirty, I hadn't been asleep that long. But I had a lot to do that day, because I had twelve hours to make sure my therapist was dead, because if she wasn't I was fucked. My plan meant relying on someone else, so I had to do it quick in case I needed a backup plan. Which I really hoped I wouldn't.

Throughout breakfast I sat quietly on a table on my own – just like always – sitting and watching Charlie from across the room, she looked calm and peaceful. However lucky for me she seemed to be having one of her slightly off days. She was never particularly bad, just often she would cause a big problem when it came to everyone's morning sweets, that day was one of those days.

Every morning after breakfast an orderly came round with a try of tiny paper cups each with pills in, of course there were always the few people who made a huge fuss out of them, but most just took them. My first week I had been just taking them, but they kind of wiped me out and a few times made me sick, but I guess that was because I didn't need them, that's what you get when you fake a mental illness.