Jailbreak •Maxian•

.04

It was another two days before Max was finally moved to my cell. It felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders knowing that he was in a place where I could watch over him and not a cell block away.

The cell was small, containing only a bunk bed built into the wall, and a toilet in the corner. I always slept on the bottom bunk, wanting to be closer to the ground, but I would quickly give that up if Max wanted it.

It was just after dinner and we were walking back to our cell for the night. We were quiet, I wasn't sure what to say and I could tell he wasn't either.

He finally spoke once we got to the cell. "Thank you again for this, Ian."

"It's not problem, Max," I smiled at him. "Like I said, it was my idea. Which bunk do you want?"

Max looked at the bed then to me. "Which do you like?"

"Max it's your choice," I laugh. "I don't mind either one."

"Can I have the top bunk?" He asks as his eyes light up like a child asking for a new toy.

"Of course you can," I smile and sit on the bottom bunk. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he says climbing up to the top bunk.

<m>

I wake up in the middle of the night, hearing the sound of Max moving restlessly above me. I turned on my side and tried to ignore it, but I couldn't once I heard him whimper and cry.

I rose out of bed and looked at the bunk above, finding Max covered in sweat and holding his eyes tightly shut. I shook him lightly and he jolted awake with a gasp.

He looked at me and I saw nothing but fear in his gemstone eyes. His breathing was erratic and tears began to slip from his eyes but he managed to speak out one small sentence, "I'm sorry for waking you."

I shook my head before climbing up to his bunk and wrapping an arm around his shaking body. He jumped at the initial touch before shifting closer to me.

We stayed in silence, sitting close together as he calmed himself. I could feel as he stopped shaking finally and began to breathe normally again. It was then that I asked him "what was it about?"

"It was bad," he replied quietly. "It just felt so real. I was in here on the phone with my younger brother and in the background there was screams and I asked him what it was and he just told me goodbye and the line went dead. I thought that they were getting killed and I wanted to be there to protect them but I couldn't be because I'm here."

"I'm sure they're alright," I tell him.

"I know it just felt so real," he nods. I start to move closer to the edge of the bed but Max holds me back. "Could you just stay with me for a while?"

"Of course," I nod and move back, tightening my grip around him so he's closer.

"Can I ask you something?" He says, looking up at me.

"Sure," I smile down at him.

"Why are you in here?"

I look down and shake my head. "I don't think you want to know."

"I do though," he pressed on. "You just don't seem like you'd do anything that would be worthy of a life sentence."

"I did though," I sigh. "And I'm not proud of it."

"Well what is it?"

"Why don't you tell me what you did, Max," I say, trying to steer him away from the topic. "You seem too innocent for prison."

"Maybe because I am," he sighs in an annoyed way. "I didn't even do anything."

"Then why are you here then?" I ask him.

"I was accidentally framed."

"How does that work," I inquire with a raised eyebrow.

"I was studying at a park, all the books that I wasn't using were sitting in my backpack by my feet and I was sitting on a bench reading. A man sat next to me uncomfortably close but I didn't really pay any mind to him.

"It was starting to get dark so I grabbed my bag and started walking away. When I was a few feet away, the man shouted at me to stop and started to run after me. In fear, I ran away. Stupidly, I ran right into a road without looking and a car stopped just short of hitting me.

"This car was a police car. The officer got out and asked what I was doing, and I told him I was being chased by a man but when I tried to show him the man he was nowhere to be seen. The officer thought that I was high so he asked to see my bag and I let him because, like I said, there were only books in there. Then just like that the bag is dumped and various types of drugs and a gun fall out. I try to tell him that that wasn't my bag, that it had to be the man's, but he doesn't believe me since he thought I imagined the man. Since the man and my real bag were gone without a trace, I had no chance."

"Wow," I say, taking in his story. "You really are innocent."

"At least you believe me," he sighs. "Will you tell me what you did now?"

"Only if you promise me two things," I say looking into his gemstone eyes. "One: don't tell anyone. And Two: don't think of me differently."

"I promise," he tells me, returning my gaze.

"I wish I could undo this," I sigh before starting. "I had a nice life. I liked my job, I had a nice girlfriend living with me, I had a nice house, I liked my friends. Then it all crashed. My friends started leaving one by one, I got laid off, and I found out my girlfriend was whoring around behind my back. So one day I just snapped.

"I walked into the house and I picked up a knife and I just lost it on my girlfriend. By the time I was done, she was unrecognizable and blood was everywhere. The whole time I just didn't know what I was doing until I saw the blood. When I came out of it I called 911 but it was too late by then."

"Oh," was the only thing Max said.

"You think I'm some kind of psycho now, don't you?" I question. "I knew I shouldn't have told you."

"No, I don't," he tells me. "I'd think you were a psycho if you meant it, but you don't. You regret it. And from what I've seen, you aren't a bad person. I think you just blindly made a bad choice."

"Thank you," I say.

"For what?" he asks.

"For not just deeming me a monster," I reply. "It's nice to have someone on my side."

"Of course," he smiles. "I'll be on your side as long as you're on mine."

"We're just a team of our own, aren't we?" I joke.

"You and me against the world," he jokes back.

"You and me against the world," I agree.