The Blackbirds Song

Chapter 12

Things are still tense. It has been nearly three months since Michael arrived. These days, he keeps his head down, and his eyes forward, never speaking to anyone, and never caring about much of anything.

There have been some incidents, and a few nasty ones at that. I do not know what genius thought it would be a good idea to keep a couple hundred dangerous, and angry inmates cooped up together for a couple of years, but they were tempting fate, and fate came through, for many people. People trip him in the hallways into the bathrooms, they throw food at his face in the cafeteria, and they call him gross names. For the first time ever, I am glad that I did not live long enough to have to endure that. 

Michael's mom came to visit a couple weeks ago. It was very tearful, on the opposite side of the glass. Michael's dad got locked up. There is nobody left to pay the rent, and she doesn't know how much longer she will last in her apartment. 

'Winters comin' Mikey' she said, as tears splashed down her front. 'I have no electricity'. 

'It's alright Ma', he said quietly through the glass separating them. He was quite all night, not moving in his bed, and staring at the ceiling.

'I could help you,' I whispered to the direction of his bed.

'No,' he replied. 'No one can help me.' He rolled over in his covers, and pretended to be asleep, so I let him. It's not his fault that he loves his family.

The next day, Michael kept a frown on his face. Everyone was staring, but I have a bad feeling about that stare; inmates frown all the time, it is not that unusual.

That night, when he returned to his cell after mealtime, hooded men followed. Michael didn't notice them when he closed the door, he seemed awfully preoccupied. But they did more than just stand there.

One of them grabbed a blanket, and started smothering his face into it. Then they put him on the bed. Michael was flailing madly. Then they grabbed a water bottle, and starting pouring water into his already covered mouth. He was choking to death. I needed to do something, but I didn't know what.

All of a sudden, they all dashed away. I pulled the blanket off of Michael's head as fast as I could. 

'Michael, Michael, are you all right?' He laid there gasping for breath.

'Mike' 

'What?' 

'Call me Mike' I nodded my head. Poor guy, at least I didn't suffer.