Chapter 1
I sighted for the eighteenth time that day. Slid down in a comfortable position on the overused bus seat, narrowed my eyes and gave an overheated glare to the passengers who were staring at me. I smiled for myself when they looked away, and put the little backpack I had carried on the bus in the unoccupied seat next to me. The backpack was carrying all the personal belongings I was allowed to bring to prison. That's right, I'm going to prison. Fox River to be exact. I felt the butterflies flame up in my belly as I thought of the next three years I'm going to spend in an all-man-prison with murderers and rapists.
Again I sighted. I just have to do my time and not draw any attention to myself. I tensed when I felt someone stare at me. I pushed my blond bangs out of my eyes and looked around in the small bus. I quickly noticed the guy who was staring at me, he wasn't hard to see. He had white tanktop, completed with sweat rings under the arms, pants that where much to tight to him, so his stomach was hanging out, hair that looked like it was going to fall of any second and a face that resembled a pig's.
I gave him another glare, but he didn't back out. The man continued to leer perversely at me, and it developed into a staring contest.
After about five minutes I broke the contact. Ether it was because I simply couldn't watch that greasy man's face anymore or it was because my eyes began to water. I like to think it was the first option.
I tried to place my head in a position on the dirty window so I could get some sleep before we arrived. I knew it was a long ride there so if I got a lot of sleep I might get there outrested. I missed a lot of sleep lately, being unable to relax because I knew I was going to prison.
More people were staring at me now, I knew it. I could feel their glaze, wondering what a young boy form the rich side of the street was doing in a place like this. They can wonder all they want.
I slid my hand through my hair smoothly before closing my eyelids.
Michael Scofield leant against the fence in the Yard with a view over the paring spots. His spanich roommate, Sucre, was currently talking about Maricruze, and how they where going to get married.
Michael didn't listen. His thought was racing through the pipes and tunnels in the prison, planning how to break out of this place. After the failed first attempt, he didn't want to make any mistakes.
He noticed T-Bag making his way towards them, and Sucre immediately stopped talking.
"Hello there, Pretty," the Alabamian drawled as he came close enough for Michael and Sucre to hear. "What's fillin' your mind?"
"Well Fish, I have... er… something I must do." Sucre said fast before taking of. T-Bag laughed.
"It would seem like your roommate doesn't like me very much, don't you think Scofield?"
"I wouldn't know." Michael answered, not even sparing the pedophile a glance.
T-Bag looked like he was about to say something more to Michael, but something caught his attention. A prison bus was slowly rolling in on the paring lot.
"Would you look at that." T-Bag said. "A new load of freshmen. Finally somethin' to spice this place up a notch." The southern man licked his lips.
I woke up startled. Where am I? Oh yes, the bus. Damn. I dreamt that the bus had an accident and everybody escaped. If only.
The bus stopped, and everybody on it began to climb out through the small doors. I got up from my seat, stretched, grabbed the little backpack in one hand and joined the line to the doors. Once outside I stretched again, before looking at the building I'll be spending the next three years in. A tall brick building surrounded by walls and guard posts. Some prisoners where outside and watched us, the newcomers, through the fences.
"Move!" I heard a guard sneer at us. The other newcomers didn't look scared. I was probably the youngest one here, and also the smallest one. Damn the small genes passed down through the generations in my family!
We walked up to the main building, between the two fences on each side, both with prisoners having free time. I tried to concentrate on the walls in front of me, and not the cat-calls that were thrown our way. I looked curiously to the right when I heard someone whistle. I didn't see what the person looked like, because I eyes locked with his. White skin and brown eyes. That was all I registered before the man got a twisted grin on his face. I tore my own eyes away and proceeded to quickly walk by the others. I tried not to look back.
Once every new con was inside the registration department, one of the guards began to explain what was going to happen the next twenty minutes. Something about a quick shower, followed by an oral test and then getting the new clothes that we'll be using while we serve our time. I only listened half-heartedly because I already knew what was going to happen. My lawyer had explained everything to me before I left home.
I stripped quickly and got in the line for the showers. I knew that some of the other men were staring at me (some of them didn't even bother to hide it and waggled their eyebrows pervertely at me) but I chose not to see it. Instead I ignored them, showered with closed eyes to block out everyone around me and got ready for the oral test.
Captain Brad Bellick was currently doing his paperwork of the month when his eyes grazed the new inmates the prison just had gotten. Some of them had faces he recognised, those types that were always in and out of prison, but there were also new ones. He stood by one of the large windows in the hallway leading down to A-wing from the registration department. His eyes were still roaming through the cons, looking for familiar or interesting faces.
Then his glaze picked something up. A boy, couldn't be older that 18, with sun blond hair and pale, milky-white skin. He was on the left side of the showers, so the boy must had finished the shower and completed the oral test. His dark blue prison pants hung low on his hips, and he hadn't gotten his t-shirt on so he stood there bare-chested. Bellick could see the flat stomach and chest, lightly muscled but no visible abs.
Bellick stared. The boy looked a lot more like he was 15 than 18. Hell, he even looked a little like a girl, because of the thin waist and lightly curved hips. Bellick new that the boy would be torn apart by the other inmates if he ended up with a pervert as a cellmate, one that wouldn't protect him. Brad smiled evilly. He had never helped a con out of trouble and he would as sure as hell not start now. He shifted his eyes down at the papers he had in his hands and took a quick look over the cells that where available at the moment.
Bellick got a vicious look in his eyes when he found the perfect cellmate for the young looking boy. This was going to be fun.
"Jake Morrison. 18 years old. In for attempted murder. Ain't that right, Morrison?" the guard said to me. He had a stupid grin on his face, as if he was having a good time reading through my papers. Maybe he knows who I'll have as a cellie, I thought. Probably someone bad, judging from the sadistic look he got.
I wanted to glare at the man. He looked like he was well in his forties, half bold, and with a blue guard's uniform that looked way too tight for him. Roy Geary, I read at his badge. As I said, I wanted to glare. But I had to behave. Maybe this guy could arrange different cellies. If I played nice, he might set me up with a good guy.
So I smiled brightly at him.
"That's me boss." I said happily.
Geary looked a little perplexed by the sudden smile. I guess he didn't expect that from a new con.
"You trying anything with that smile of yours, Morrison?"
I blinked and my smile faded. "What would that be boss?"
"Nothin'." The guard muttered before looking down at his paperwork at his desk. I stood at the other side at the desk, my box of belongings at the floor beside me, waiting to know what cell I would be living in.
I was a little bit confused right now. Usually old people like this man would take a liking to me because of my politeness and innocence (fake innocence of coarse, but they didn't know that). This guy looked like he had kids so he had to have some pity towards me; I know I look young. I decided to try again.
"Sorry if I seem rude: believe it or not, but it is my first time in prison."
"So I see." Geary said. When he looked at me again, I decided to take the smile to the next level.
"Yeah, but it can't be that bad right? You guards look like you're doing a good job so I guess I have nothing to worry about." I ended the lie with another smile and a shy scratch in the back of my head.
I noticed the guard's lip twitching, as if he was going to smile. Then he looked down at the papers again. Come on, I thought fast. Bite the bait, stupid. Bite the bait!
I saw with satisfaction that Geary took a pen and scrambled over some names and wrote in new ones. I couldn't read that well from afar, but it looked like I would have shared a cell with someone named Bagwell. Hmm… Never heard that name before… Maybe I did all this lying for nothing…
Then the guard looked up again, and he had a warm smile on his face. I smirked mentally. The guy had definitely taking a liking into me.
"Well Mr Morrison, you will be in cell 46. The guard over there will take you to it."
"Thank you!" another smile.
I picked up my stuff and walked over to the guard Geary had been talking about. He took my elbow in a firm grip, walked through a long corridor and into a new one, through a large door and into a large room that had about 100 small cells. The inmates were walking around in the small space, talking or fighting each other. It would seem like the people I had seen standing outside when I came here had come inside.
The guard, I didn't bother to read his nametag, led me up the second floor. I ignored the seductive smiles I got from some of the other cons and just watched the floor as we crossed the surface. Then the guard stopped in front of a cell, let go of my arm and walked of in the other direction again without as much as a word.
Weird guy, I thought. Then I shrugged, and stepped inside the cell I would sleep in. It was small, not at all comfy, and the old bed used up almost all the space. Oh well, what more can you expect in a prison. I'm happy as long as I don't have to share a cell with a pedophile.
I bent down and pushed my box under the bead. Unpacking could wait.
"What are you doing in my cell?"
I turned around and eyed the man behind me. He had short cut brown hair, bushy eyebrows and short stumps of a beard, barely reaching out of his chin.
"I'm your new roommate." I said carefully judging his reactions.
"Roommate? You?" the man sniggered. "How old are you, boy?"
"Eighteen," I stated. "And just because you're older than me, doesn't mean I'm more of a boy then you are." I could tell he was hesitating. Either blow me off and never speak to me again, and I'm guessing that's what he had done to his previous cellmates, or accept me. This guy looked like he was going to blow me off.
"You got some nerve speaking like that to me boy." the man said slowly before biting his lip. I continued to stare him in the eye, tried not to blink.
"And I like that." he said after a dramatic pause. He smirked while stretching out a hand. "John Abruzzi."
I blinked. I did not predict that he actually would accept me. Damn, I thought I was good at reading people. And this man was John Abruzzi? The mafia boss John Abruzzi? I got to be careful around this guy.
"The normal thing to do now squirt, would be to shake hands with me and tell me your name."
"Uhh… Oh, right!" I shook hand with him.
"Name's Jake." I said firmly.
"No last name kid?" The stupid mafia is trying to figure out my name!
"Not that I'm willing to share with a mafia boss."
Abruzzi eyebrows furred. "I recon you heard about me?"
"I've heard about all the mafia bosses around this country. Been involved with them myself." I tried to keep my sentences short and stable. I played tough, but when I fisted my hand I could feel them shaking.
"What do you mean 'you've been involved'?" Abruzzi dug. I could see he wasn't willing to let this conversation be led of track, but I wasn't about to answer these questions for him. I didn't want to think about what I did to come here in the first place now.
"Maybe you'll find out some day," I said before offering him a smile. "But I'm not going to tell you that right now. Deal with it."
I could see he had problems fighting back the anger that came swelling up in his chest when I didn't answer him. I didn't want to anger him anymore right now so I tried to change the subject.
"Which of the beds are mine? The bottom or the one at the top?"
The older man looked at me again. Searched my face for traces of lies or fear. I kept my face as emotionless as I could but I knew he spotted fear in my eyes.
"The bottom. You're definitely the one at the bottom."
The minute Abruzzi saw the kid walking out of the buss he new he had seen him before. The wild blond hair that reached the boy to a little above the shoulder and the small, lithe body what not something you forgot quickly. And the eyes. Big, ice-blue and with elegant blond eyelashes on top.
Don't get him wrong, Abruzzi was everything but gay. But the boy had something about him that just couldn't be forgotten. John was sure that if he got to know a name, he would know were he had seen the kid before. But the little runt refused to give John his name, even after John had been so polite and introduced himself like a civilized man.
So Abruzzi decided to wait. The boy was more than likely being targeted by more than one of the other cons. He had already overheard four or five of the more perverted inmates explain what they wanted to do to the kid. So Jake was likely to break in a very soon future. And when he was breaking, John would be sure to be there to get all the answers out of the runt.
"The bottom. You're definitely the one at the bottom."
I blinked. Was he implying something here? Don't misunderstand me, I am actually very smart, but there is something about the sex jokes. I never seem to understand them before its way to late. I bit my lower lip in thought. Then I noticed that John was about to leave.
"Oy, wait Mafia!" I yelled.
John whirled around in the cell exit. "Mafia is not my name Kid." He said with untamed fury.
"Fine, John, but if you keep calling me Kid then I will call you Mafia." Wow, that's one of the lamest threats I've ever…
"What do you want Kid?" he smiled. Unbelievable! He was going along with the joke! Oh, it is so on!
"Well, I was actually just wondering… Do you know who someone named Bagwell is?" I said, unable to hold my curiosity anymore. John frowned,
"Bagwell? Why do you want to know who that is?"
"Well, you see, I was actually assigned to share a cell with him, but I played nice to one of the guards and he assigned me to you instead. I'm just wondering if that was good or bad."
"Oh, that was defiantly good for you," Mafia smiled a crooked grin. "Theodore 'T-bag' Bagwell is one of the most dangerous criminals here."
"Apart from you, you mean?" I laughed.
"Yes." John traced his fingers through his unshaved face a few times. "He is in for life because he raped and killed six teenagers in Alabama. If you had shared a cell with him, you wouldn't have lasted a week in here." Then he turned around and walked away.
Raping and killing, eh? Well, I'm sure as hell glad I was nice to that guard. If I hadn't done it I would probably be gutted before this day was over.
I sighted. Well, it was a close call, but it didn't happen. No sense in sitting here all day and my legs were itching to move after the long buss ride. Time to get out and mingle! Haha. Mingle. What a funny word.