Micah
His stare cuts into me. The eyes look dead. They give no clue as to what’s going on behind them; except that it’s bad. It’s worse than just bad. I can feel the fear turning my stomach to mush but I can’t look away. Not just yet. Prison protocol. Not too submissive, not too aggressive.
He stands up and stretches his menacing, six-foot-six frame, never taking his eyes off me.
Beside me, a voice says, “Don’t let the Giant bother you, kid.”
The words give me an excuse to break eye contact. I turn towards him. He’s an inch shorter than me but muscled like I never could be. Blackbird is my only friend in here and has, so far, protected me from the Giant’s gang who have it in for me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my tormentor lumbering towards us. He stops in front of me.
I sense, rather than see, that Blackbird is tensing his muscles beside me. These two hate each other. It can only be a matter of time before violence breaks out between them and their gangs. I just pray that now is not that time.
The Giant’s nose is inches from mine. Maskless, he blows in my face and leers at me, “Your boyfriend here won’t be around to protect you forever.” There is an intake of breath beside me. Prison honour can’t let an insult like that go unpunished. I glance quickly at Blackbird. Every muscle in his body is tensed, ready to spring, and his one good eye is drilled into the Giant’s face. The Giant turns towards him with a cruel smile. “Look around,” he says. Blackbird doesn’t move but I obey the command. None of Blackbird’s gang are in the room but three of the Giant’s good buddies are.
Totally outside of my control, my legs move and I take a step back from the violence about to explode. I know I can’t escape it this time.
Five long seconds.
Then the Giant chuckles. “Goodbye, ladies,” he says as he limps away.
For a second Blackbird and I stay frozen in our positions. I am the first to break the spell. My sigh of relief is audible.
Blackbird finally lets the tension out of his body. “Don’t worry, kid,” he says, “I have more friends in here than he does and he knows it. We’ve got your back.”
“Thanks, man,” I say, embarrassed by the squeak in my voice.
“Let’s go,” he says. “Gym time.”
He leads the way out of the common room and I follow, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone else.
For the thousandth time in the twenty-three days I’ve been in here, I am overwhelmed with bitterness at the unfairness of it all.
I shouldn’t be jailed at all.
