When the next morning had rolled around, I felt calm and at peace with myself for some reason. During the night, the beast had surfaced as per usual and left his marks on my arms and face, but today I couldn't bring myself to curse and cringe at the pain. I lay against my hardened rusty frame and my thoughts drifted off to Cammie. I presumed that she would be arriving in a few more minutes if she decided to come today. And it was most likely that she would be coming considering her history of consistency and punctuality.
She really was a peculiar girl. I wondered where on Earth she lived. Did her parents approve of her crazy appearance? The pink hair? And why was she so skinny? I wanted to know badly. I would sometimes get flashes of those protruding collar bones on Cammie's neck. I even bet that if she bent over you would be able to clearly count each vertebrate on her spine. The thought gave me a slight shiver and my mind wandered off to the song she sang. The memory of the smashed iPod came up and I grimaced, remember the immense pain I felt in my heart when I heard the lyrics of that haunting song. It made me remember the days when I was still with her and it forced me to relive the horrible night when I lost her forever. I suppose the situation is quite melodramatic. I mean, I can't even force myself to think of her name, much less say it aloud. But I know deep down that there is a reason I'll never say her name and that reason is the cause for why I must spend the rest of my worthless days in this shithole.
A sudden clanging interrupted my thoughts which were about to take on a much darker tone. Shouts were heard from outside my cells, most likely from the cafeteria. I heard the pounding footsteps of the guards rushing past my cell and down the stairs to control the chaos. I remained lying down awaiting the familiar whack of the stick and the clicking of all the locks. But the sounds never came. The shouts and screams started becoming more and more animalistic. I heard the powerful voice of the head guard calling for back up, but all of a sudden his words were cut off with a deep and guttural holler. I heard a sputtering sound and then the roar of the inmates overpowered any other gasps that could have come out of the man's voice. I sat up more alert now. The idiots were actually serious about trying to escape. I groaned internally and retreated to a corner of my cell. I curled up into a ball and covered up my ears. From years of experience, I knew exactly what was going to happen to the inmates. It wasn't long before a team of armed guards barricaded through the doors. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to block out their screams of agony and pain as the guards opened fire. Understand the prison rules, guards shouldn't open fire upon inmates unless completely necessary, but the prison warden had ways of manipulating the data. It would be very easy to say that 20 or so inmates conveniently died from a fatal disease that originated from self-harm or some bullshit like that.
"HEY! DOPEY DAN! SAVE ME MAN!" A cackling voice resonated from the doorway of my cell.
I opened my eyes to see an inmate at my doorway gasping for air. A gaping bullet wound was clearly visible on his right shoulder and his face looked scarily messed up. His left eye was sliced and the scars must have been from past scuffles. He was barely able to hold himself up, but he crawled over my cell and stuck his arms through the bars. I curled up into a tighter ball and prayed that he would go away.
"COME ON MAN! SAVE ME!"
The inmate continued to scream and he thrashed his arms wildly, trying to grab at me. But I was too far. The fella grabbed handfuls of air, shoving his body as hard as possible against the bars. It was as if he thought that by getting through the bars and being stuck with me would somehow protect him from the guards that would be on his tail in no time. I wasn't mistaken as a guard emerged in the doorway and spotted the blood-stained orange jumpsuit immediately. The inmate started screaming even louder if it was even physically possible. His hands curled around my bars and held on tightly. The guard had to literally pry his nails off of the bars and sent the guy hurling up his maggoty breakfast with a few kicks to the stomach. I turned my head the other way. I didn't want to watch.
A few more kicks and punches were dealt to the inmate who was now writhing on the floor in pain. The guard took out his gun and pressed it to the man's temple.
"STOP! PLEASE STOP!! I'LL TELL YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT TO HEAR!" The inmate screamed desperately.
The guard took a moment to contemplate his victim's offer. The inmate seized the opportunity and in less than a millisecond, utter crap was spilling from his mouth. I couldn't believe my ears.
"It's all Scratch! He is the one who planned this entire rebellion. He wants to officially escape in 5 days. Today's riot was all just a distraction. We are digging a hole in cell number 203 and Scratch is the one to blame. He has been brooding over an escape for the past few months. I played no role in this. I'm completely innocent. I'm even telling you the truth now!"
The inmate was sobbing now and I was filled with disgust at the scene that played out before me. The inmate was a sobering pathetic mess trying to out his fellow inmates in an attempt to have his own life spared. I wanted to spit on his face but I held my repulsion back with much difficultly.
The guard sneered and gave the man a falsely reassuring pat on the shoulder. The inmate's face instantly brightened up and he struggled to get to his feet. In a flash however, the guard flipped the safety switch and a loud bang was heard. The bullet had gone straight through the man's head. A large blood stain was splattered across the wall. The guard wiped off his hands, tucked his gun away, and dragged the now lifeless body out of my cell room. I turned completely away from the bars so I was laying my head on my knees, facing the wall to which my bed was attached to. The face carved into the cracks on my wall was emotionless. The temperature became unbearably cold and I didn't want to think about the inmate who had just been blatantly shot before my eyes.
There were no good apples in the world. Even that bastard inmate couldn't find the morality within himself to keep his mouth shut. I was sure that he must have been partially friends with Scratch. At the end of the day it was all about self-preservation and for that I just wanted to scream. The wall before me seemed to look even more welcoming and with a huff, I began to pummel the stone with my fists. Punch after punch. My knuckles split open and it got to the point where I was gritting my teeth and shaking the sweat from my hair.
"Well someone is being quite violent today."
The soft voice snapped me out of my trance and I whipped my head around to see Cammie standing. Her pink hair was pulled up into two buns today and they reminded me of cotton candy. Behind Cammie was the nasty blood stain from before. She didn't seem to notice it at all. She walked up to my bars and sat down cross-legged. I got a whiff of her unique scent and slightly shifted my body to face her. For some reason, I was glad to get a break from the chaos of the day. Cammie would be a distraction with her crazy ideas and comments and all.
"I suppose if I'm not going to be human, I'd like to be an oak tree."
She did not fail to disappoint. I almost laughed at the complete randomness with which she talked.
"Do you think I could be reborn as an oak tree in my next life?"
My eyes met hers and without saying anything, she could see the question in my eyes.
Why?
She read my mind and answered the question as I remained mute.
"I just think they are so majestic. You know, I guess I won't be reborn as an oak tree. I'll probably have to be reborn as a rapist or something."
I raised an eyebrow in confusion. Her comment was quite bizarre and such a nasty word as "rapist" seemed odd coming from her mouth.
"Have you ever heard of the caste system? It's an idea that originated at the beginning of an ancient religion. It's the idea that there is a hierarchy in life. Based on how well you behave in life, when you are reincarnated as another person, the good-er you were in life, the higher your position will be. So if you spent your life as a Saint you will be reborn as a princess or something. Cool right? I know exactly where I'm going. Down."
I took a moment to think about the concept that she had presented. Had I been good in this life? The answer was an instantaneous no. But my life has been pretty crappy. I'm going to be stuck in a prison cell for the rest of my life. I don't think that's a very nice way to spend your time so I'm assuming that my past self must have done something really bad. I feel slightly sorry for my future self though, because I have done nothing good to right that wrong.
Cammie let out a small yawn.
"Sorry don't mean to be rude. I'm just so tired today. It was a long night."
I listened intently. It was the first time she had given me any information or hint as to what exactly she did all day. Unfortunately, Cammie didn't elaborate so I had to imagine based on my limited information. Maybe she is a student and she had to spend the whole night sleeping. Wait, then she would be in school now. Maybe she is a nurse and .... wait then there's definitely no way she could find time to come see me. I wracked my brain trying to find an answer, but I came up empty.
"I used to have a goldfish."
I nodded absentmindedly.
"Its name was Buttercup and I really loved it. At the same time however, my family owned a bunch of kittens and this one time I was about 8 and we held a Halloween party. I had accidently left my bedroom door open and one of my kittens managed to sneak into my room where Buttercup was in his bowl. As you know, kittens love to play with their food, so when my mom went into my room, Buttercup was lying dead with his tail bitten off. I didn't understand at the time that Buttercup was dead. My mom plopped the head into the bowl, swirled it around a few times and said 'Look! He's not dead!' and my friends and I cheered happily. I spend the rest of the night stuffing my face with candy."
I never had any pets. But she had a dog. It was a cute little Corgi and it absolutely loved her. Whenever I would head over to her house, the dog would growl at me possessively. I used to joke that one day I was just going to kidnap her dog and throw it in the river. Of course I never did. I would never lay a finger on the things she loved.
"She would do that a lot."
Cammie interrupted again. Who was she?
"My mom would always do that a lot, you know. Cover up the truth."
So the girl had mommy problems. Who didn't? But something told me that Cammie was dealing with something much bigger than mean parents.
Cammie left early that day, but not before leaving behind a ton of bandages. I gratefully took them and wrapped my fists. I really needed to stop doing that.