Chapter 2: 2 – Cold Prison Stones

Drip. Drip.

Two water droplets dripped from the ceiling of my cell. I counted to three in my head, and was rewarded with another:

Drip. Drip.

"Urgh." I hit my head against the wall behind me.

"Shut up!" My neighbour yelled.

"I didn't say anything!" I tried to yell back, but my voice came out jagged, and I was suddenly taken by a coughing fit.

"I said shut up!" My neighbour yelled again and hit his fist against our common wall, to accentuate his point.

"Keep it down." Came a voice from down the hall.

I immediately put both hands over my mouth, trying to muff the sound of my coughing as much as I could. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough. Heavy footsteps sounded through the hallway and soon stopped before my cell.

I looked up, hoping that the coughing fit would stop any second, even if deep inside I knew that it was impossible with whatever disease I had. The prison guard seemed to know that too.

Without breaking eye contact, he unlocked the door to my cell. I tried to crawl away, into a corner. My bones were still aching from the last beating. 

The guard kicked me in the back. Then in the stomach. I tried rolling up, to protect my organs, but to no avail. The fact that the man wasn't even saying anything only made it worse.

The pain would have been so much easier to bear if he'd yelled at me and told me what I had done wrong. I knew, of course, what I had done, but it would have brought me some comfort hearing someone else's voice. Even if it was to yell and insult me.

I realized it was over when I heard the door of my cell slam shut. Every single centimetre of my body hurt, and I couldn't even distinguish the new pain from the old.

I crawled back to my resting spot; the wall that wasn't as wet and slimy as the rest. 

I closed my eyes and tried to think of good things, of my life before I got thrown to jail. 

I thought about Agustin and how his strong arms would wrap around me. I thought back to those days we lived together in that small house at the edge of town. Then I remembered that with me being in jail, and not contacting him for months, he'd probably broken up with me. 

Actually, he definitely had since I knew he had the money to bail me out of here, but had not tried to do so. And I understood that. After all, who would want to put up with a dirty thief like me?

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