Trapped with the Animals

moving day

i'm on my knees hovering over the toilet, unsure if i'm done for now and i hear a knock on the stall door.

"hey ed sheeran," i hear the raspy voice from the other side of the door. her knowledge of british people must be very extensive i think sarcastically to myself. i don't respond and she speaks up again.

"cmon kid, open up." she says slightly wiggling the door. i sit up for a moment and briefly roll my eyes before responding.

"i'm good really i-" and before i can finish i throw up again. i hear the door wiggle even more before it stops. suddenly there's a hand in my should and i whip around, almost making myself dizzy enough to throw up right on her. she had crawled under the stall door.

"when's the last time you used?" she asks with that same concerned look in her eyes. great, so it's obvious to everybody that i'm a junkie that was just forced to go cold turkey.

"two days ago," i start saying.

"some meth-head in processing gave me some random pain killers." i add in defeat. i'm not sure why i'm telling her all this, i guess i just feel lonely. i slightly jump when she softly places her hand on my back and starts rubbing it. i turn back around and stick my head back in the toilet, starting to gag.

"get it all out kid," she says reassuring me. something about her rough voice is surprisingly soothing.

"it gets easier, i promise."
~~~
"look man, i don't know what to tell you." i say into my phone, trying to keep my voice down seeing that my dad is in the room over.

"you gotta wait until tomorrow, something came up tonight." i say, starting to get irritated. i should know first hand what it feels like to have a play get canceled, especially when i'm fiening, but personally this jackass isn't worth my time or effort.

"bro please i'll put up to your house just tell me-" i hang up the phone. not dealing with that shit right now.

i open my closet doors and pick out a flannel and some ripped jeans. i begin buttoning my shirt when i hear my phone begin to ring.

i immediately begin to get pissed off. junkies are so relentless i think sarcastically. yes i'm aware of how much of a a hypocrite i am.

"fuck me." i say out loud, realizing it's my mother.

"good afternoon audrey." my mother says as i pick up the phone. i dramatically roll my eyes at my deadname. mom was never a big fan of my transition and all that. i try to not let it bother me being that she only really calls me to talk every few weeks or so.

"what are you doing sweetheart?" she asks almost sounding passive aggressive.

"well first of all, it's 5pm, second of all, i'm getting ready for dads show." i say. there is a pause before she says anything else.

"interesting, well i sent you a letter in the mail for valentine's day, did you get it?" she asks. yeah i got it, read it, and threw it in the trash. it went something like 'my beautiful daughter, blah blah blah'

"yes, i loved it." i lie. at this point i think the only reason she still contacts me is to piss off dad.

"alright sweetie, have a good evening and," she pauses for a moment

"enjoy your father's show. love you!" she says as she hangs up the phone.

like she gives a fuck about dads show
~~~
"royale!" a female guard yells from the doorway of my cell. she hands me a beige uniform and instructs me to follow her.

i'm let into what i assume to be the white people dorms. personally, i think it's ridiculous for the dorms to be segregated but i'm not going to question it.

"here's your bunk, and change into those." she says posting to the khakis in my hand. i look over at the bed adjacent to mine and recognize the tall woman with black hair and glasses. she looks me up and down as i slowly remove my orange top.

"damn" she says to me, now shirtless.

"i like your tattoos." she says. i'm glad she didn't say anything about the scars across my chest. i have wings covering my back (i know cliche) and there is a tiger tattoo that covers my upper chest, along with my arms covered in tattoos. i like to think my tattoos are a distraction from my scars but i know they don't hide them.

i quickly put on my beige top and throw my mesh bag onto my bed, collapsing next to it.

"i'm alex vause." she says, smiling at me. i return the smile trying not to make it obvious that i'm shaking. i haven't been assigned a job yet so i had just been laying in the cell all day.

"10 minutes to lights out ladies..." a CO says, then looking over at me.

"and gentleman." she adds. it's the same female guard from before, and i can tell she doesn't really care that i'm here.

i go to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and alex follows me. i go into the stall to pee and when i walk out, piper is sitting on the bathroom counter, making out with alex.

"glad to know i'm not the only fruity one here." i chuckle, trying to break the silence. they both giggle in return, then continue to make out.

as i walk out of the bathrooms and into the dorms, i'm cut off guard by miss raspy voice. i still haven't gotten her name. she begins walking backwards in front of me.

"i'm nicky," she says. it's about time i knew her damn name.

"sorry i didn't say anything sooner, i was kinda side tracked..." she adds. i notice her eying me up and down, noticing my shaking.

"are you going to be alright?" she asks. of course i'm not... this is just getting started

"yeah i'll be alright, thanks." i say removing my shirt. i could never sleep with a shirt on, especially since my top surgery. she looks at my chest, i'm not sure if she's staring at my tattoos or my scars.

"hey we're scar buddies." she says lifting her shirt. there's a pink raised scar in the center of her chest. i'm curious as to what it's from but i decide not to ask.

"listen kid, if it gets too hard, i'm in the bunk across from you. let me know if you need anything." she says, beginning to walk back to her bunk.

i flop down on the hard mattress and prepare myself for a night of torture.