I clench my teeth and begin to undress. After being put through the humiliation of showing I’ve got nothing on my body and to do the infamous nude ‘squat and cough,’ I quickly put on the uniform that's so orange it almost makes me sick just looking at it.
Orange is the new black...Yeah, right. It's only on TV that prison life is exciting. In reality, it really sucks.
As they lead me through the corridors to a cell, I feel less and less human, and more like an animal being led to slaughter.
What are you complaining about? If Bolton hadn't intervened, you'd have been here for months already!
I silence the little voice in my head that keeps defending this disgusting man.
They unlock a door before leading me into a cell. Bunk beds are built into one wall, and on the other side are a toilet, a table, and a chair. I quickly notice that the furniture is all concrete and emerges from the floor as if it were built that way. Probably was.
"Enjoy your stay," the guard tells me with a crude laugh.
Damn, this fat jerk finds my situation amusing! I stare at him, wanting to shove his head into the toilet until he swallows the water. Then I'd smash his face in. Yes, that idea is really satisfying.
But the door slams in my face before I've attempted anything. I'm well aware that I risk ending up here for good if I put even one foot wrong.
A noise behind me makes me turn around. A guy is sitting on the top bunk, staring at me with a crazy gleam dances in his eyes, and I wonder who he is.
"What did you do to end up here?" he asks me without preamble.
I frown.
"What's it to you?" I growl.
With a quick movement, he gets up and climbs down from the bed to approach me. I don't flinch under his threatening gaze. If he thinks he compares to Bolton Boardman. The man who raised me is probably the scariest person I've ever met: beneath his almost pleasant appearance lurks a monster shaped by cruelty and violence.
My cellmate sizes me up. He's waiting for me to show the slightest sign of weakness so he can take advantage of it, but he can keep dreaming. “It’s considered prison etiquette.”
"You really want to know?" I say. I let a silence pass for dramatic effect, and finally I declare, "I want to kill my father."
Just saying it out loud gives me a sick relief. Yes, sometimes I wish it were true. I tell myself that a world where Bolton Boardman didn't exist would be a better world. But I'm not a criminal, and certainly not a killer.
No, you're just a little bitch that your father can take out his frustration on whenever he needs to.
I clench my fists.
The guy facing me narrows his eyelids before asking, "Because he was sticking his dick in your mouth?"
A violent nausea grips my throat, but I don't answer. No, Bolton's monstrosity didn't go that far. Even though he had plenty of ideas when it came to punishment, he never raped me.
"Mind your own business," I snap at him.
The man doesn't back down, and he gives me a knowing look before walking away. I turn my attention to the gray-painted walls, thinking that the next two days might be the most challenging of my entire life. Being locked up without being able to exercise is probably the worst thing that could be inflicted on me.
The hours pass with exasperating slowness, and I have all the time I need to dwell on everything I've done wrong in mylife. When I get to Dixie, the list gets so long it makes my head spin.
How could she have let me into her life only for me to ruin everything? Bitterness washes over me. If I had been different, if I wasn't such a dark idiot, maybe we could have had a beautiful story together. Yes, she would have fallen in love with me and I would have felt the same. Because she's extraordinary—her way of thinking, her way of being, her way of making love... everything about her is sublime. But she's not meant for me. Or rather, I'm not meant for anyone because I always end up destroying any good thing that happens to me.
Every moment spent in this jail reminds me what a massive failure I am. No wonder my father thought he needed to set me straight. Every decision I make leads me down the wrong path. So in the end, I convince myself that I deserve the punishment, whether it's getting kicked out or doing time in prison.
In many ways, I'm no better than the guys imprisoned here. And to be honest, if my father hadn't pulled some strings, I'd be locked up too.
Memories come flooding back, and lying on the bottom bunk, with nothing to stare at but the mattress above me, I do nothing to push them away...
High school is nothing but a big joke! The teachers leave me alone and give me good grades as long as I show up, show out on the football field, and don't cause trouble in their classes. Their generosity is all the more abundant since my father dishes out the dollars.
Practice is over, and I'm heading outside when Baxter catches up with me. The guy I spend most of my time with is far from popular with the teaching staff, and he's often come close to expulsion, a rarity in the private school world. In a way, we're alike, two kids from rich families who've been dumped in a Manhattan private school that costs an arm and a leg.
