Sam and Colby: The Penitentiary

42

"Really, Ray? Four packs and a lighter?" we heard Jinx say from downstairs.

"Not mine. They're Scherer's," Ray replied. Douchebag.

"Like you expect me to believe that. I've never seen the kid so much as touch a cig in here. Hell, haven't heard him say more than two words," said Jinx.

"I'm telling you, they—,"

"Are you talking back to me, son?" Jinx snapped.

"He sure fucking is!" someone yelled from the floor above us.

"I'm glad someone agrees," Jinx said. I heard the cell door downstairs being thrown open, and then a grunting noise followed by a slap. I couldn't see over the railings to know what was happening, but Colby could.

"Tossed Ray out onto the ground, the sound was his hands catching himself on the floor," Colby whispered so I'd know what was happening.

"You've caused enough trouble in here already, don't you think? Hell, you've cause more than enough trouble on the outside. Do you know how sick and tired I am of reporters asking about your status? Like you're someone that actually matters? You're damn lucky that the state of Tennessee doesn't have the death penalty. If they did, youd've been dead the day after you shot that man," Jinx yelled.

A rattling noise started to echo throughout the giant cell block.

"What are—," I started. I stood over by Colby and peered out just enough to see a few other cells. Everyone was stomping over and over, banging on the bars with their hands.

"Get him!" I heard someone yell.

"Take that bastard down!"

"Bash in that sinner's head!"

I realized that everyone seriously hated Ray. I did too, but I hadn't realized everyone else felt the same way. Maybe they felt sort of threatened by him in a way which is why most people steered clear.

And then I heard a loud crunch followed by Ray screaming in pain.

"Ooo," all of the prisoners said, stopping their stomping. My stomach twisted.

"What did he do?" I whispered. I didn't want to know the answer, but at the same time I really did.

"Uh... let's just say buddy's going to have a broken nose tomorrow," said Colby.

Jinx continued searching and raiding different cells. I only heard a few voices that I recognized from it: Mike, Ray, Corey, and one of the guys that the Center played basketball against pretty often.

"Breakfast. Go," Jinx yelled as all of our cells unlocked and rolled open. We all filed down the stairs and toward the cafeteria when I heard Ray moan in pain from the floor behind us. I looked around to see all of the guards either in front of us or occupied, none of them paying any attention to Ray bleeding on the hard cement floor.

"Damn it," I whispered to Sam. "I'll be right there." I ducked out of the sea of people and snuck over to Ray, then stood over him. He looked pretty pathetic, laying there curled up with a busted nose and some blood running out of his mouth. "Get up."

"Fuck off," Ray groaned.

"Unless you want everyone in this place to think even less of you, get the fuck up," I said.

"Atkins!" someone yelled from behind me. I turned around, expecting to see a guard, but saw Mike instead.

"Oh! Hi," I said.

"Don't you 'hi' me, bitch," he snarled. He quickly walked up to me, put one of his rough hands on my neck, and slammed me backward against one of the cell doors. My back was pinched from how it was uncomfortably wedged in between the bars, but thankfully Mike wasn't choking me and I could still breathe. He had to be fully aware of that, though. "You thought you could play me like that, huh?"

                I decided I wouldn't answer. I'd let him explain what he thought happened and then work my way around it.

                "How'd you do it, huh? Sleep with one of the fucking guards so you could see the game before it happened? Don't think I didn't notice you slinking around all of the different tables last night, you whore. I see everything," he said. He wasn't talking very loud, but he didn't have to because of how close his face was to mine.

                "I didn't sleep with anyone," I said shortly, my voice a little strained from the pain I was in.

                "Bullshit!" he yelled. He drew his free hand back and punched my forehead. It seemed like a weird place to hit me, but I understood why when my head bounced back and slammed against the metal bars behind me. I really didn't need a fourth concussion, especially not right now.

                "Let me go!" I yelled back. His grip on my neck tightened. A mix of my head being hit so hard and a lack of proper oxygen was starting to make me dizzy. My hands shot up to the one he had wrapped around my neck and I clawed at it, trying to pry it off, but that was no use.

                "You're not anything more than a pretty face, sweetheart," he growled. Fuck this. If I was going to get beat up, I might as well try and stick up for myself. I wasn't going to be completely helpless.

                "Got a pretty damn big brain too, considering I was able to take so much of your shit last night," I said. "From you and your friends. And every other man in here. I'm a lot more than a pretty face, sweetheart. That's just a bonus."

                "Oh, you've done it now, Atkins!" he yelled. He pushed even harder on my neck and drew back his hand again, clearly aiming a punch toward the middle of my face this time. His fist was about to meet my nose when his grip faltered a little bit. I looked down to see that Ray, although still lying on the floor, had kicked one of Mike's feet hard enough for it to slip a little bit. Mike looked down to see what had happened, and I took that as my opportunity.

                Since his grip on my neck had loosened, I slammed my head forward, hitting the side of his face with my forehead. He dropped his hand from my neck, using it to hold his face. That had to have really hurt him, considering how much it'd hurt me.

                "You're fucking dead," he hissed. I swung up my leg to try and kick him, but he grabbed under my knee and jerked it around, causing me to flip over and fall onto the ground.

                "HEY!" a familiar voice boomed.

                "Of course," Mike angrily mumbled.

                "Step the fuck away. Now," ordered Big.

                "Why the hell should I listen to you, huh? I could step on her head right now and crush her pathetic little skull," Mike snapped. He walked over to me and I felt him set his gross foot on my head and begin applying pressure.

                "If you kill her, we won't kill you," Big said. Uh, not helping bud.

"No, we'll make you wish we had killed you. You'll never see another cigarette, never eat another full meal, never hear another word from your cellmate, never get a fresh pair of clothes. You'll be worse than dead. You'll be barely hanging on, and you'll be all alone," Big continued. "And of course you'll get the shit beat out of you on a regular basis. But it looks like that's already going to be happening."

"One day, Big. One day someone is going to get tired of your shit and take your place and then we'll see what happens," Mike said.

"Yeah. And that someone is going to be her," Big replied.