Love Behind Bars

01

The coldness of the prison is almost haunting. The sounds of the rusted metal chains rubbing against each other fills your brain with unwanted thoughts. It's always noisy, but the only sound that sticks out to me, is that of those who cry. Everything feels still in here. Time is passing, but nothing important is occurring. No connection to the outside world or current events can make any sane man insane.

This is no place for an innocent man.

I'm roughly pushed into a small concrete room. I lift my heavy head and look around the space I'll be contained in for the next 45 years.

It's hopeless in here.

There's a hard glossy floor that's nicely cleaned, probably not by choice. A small shelf was in the far right and left corner of the room. The right shelf held a few books and a picture of a woman with curly blonde hair. The other shelf empty. There's a bed on both sides of the room. They both were hard and had a small gray blanket draped across it. On one bed, sitting with his legs crossed, is a young blond man who looks around his early twenties, much younger than my 38 years.

The young boy sat reading a book, not bothering to look up and meet his new cellmate. He has curly blond hair that hangs just above his green eyes. His thin-rimmed glasses sit on the tip of his thin nose. I have to hold back the urge to push them up all the way. He has a sharp jaw and smooth, slightly tanned skin with small freckles on his nose. He's thin, but not purely skin and bones. The orange jumpsuit he wore was far too big for the small boy. He looks so out of place amongst the others.

"Telling you now, life here sucks." The young boy blatantly states, not bothering to look up from his book. The boy sniffles a bit before pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "What're you in for?"

His voice is soft and innocent. It's smooth and sweet and nothing like the voice you'd imagine a convicted criminal to have.

"I'm innocent," I mutter as I step over to my bed and sit down. A small snort of a laugh fills the room as a guard walks in with a small bag of my things.

"Sure you are." The young boy finishes before getting back into his book.

The guard walks over to me and threw the bag onto the hard bed, causing a thud to erupt. My head jolts to look at the bag and then slowly turns back to the guard.

"Hurry and take your belongings, boy." The guard spat, glaring at me. I turn to the bag and slowly unzip it, the sound causing a slight chill to run through me.

The first item I come in contact with is a frameless picture of a young boy laughing and smiling in a field. He has dirty blond hair swayed to one side. I look into his big gray eyes, ones that look so much like my own. His sweet long eyelashes compliment his gray orbs, giving him a soft and innocent look. 

William.

He's not this small anymore. He's now a rowdy, moody, matured teenager. He has his mother's blonde hair and her perfect face shape. They are both so beautiful.

"Sir, where's the frame that went with this?" I ask, running my fingers along my sons sweet baby face. The frame was a gift that his grandmother, my mother, gave to us before her passing. It means a lot to the family.

Both the guard and the young boy laugh, like I've said something stupid. I direct my eyes straight into the guard's.

"Look, boy, that frame contained glass. Do you really think we are going to trust convicted criminals with glass?" The man laughs before walking towards me, pulling out some keys. He unlocks the chains around my ankles, making it far much easier to walk.