Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the original characters.
Special thanks to my very special team. Nancy, Lotty, Loopy Lou, you're fabulous.
A/N This piece tells some of the background story.
The Vulture Gang – outtake to Visits With My Shrink
Every day is a stone's thrown in the ocean, disappearing without a trace. I'm on auto-pilot, pretending I'm used to the thought that I'm in jail.
I've killed a woman; that's a fact. But I don't remember her face, and there are days when I believe I'm here for a non-existent crime. It's confusing, to know and not know.
I pray to God sometimes. I pray for my soul, I pray for my love, I pray for my sanity. I was never religious before.
The blur that has become my life is rarely disturbed by my dearest friends and family who visit. Emmett, the one and only ray of sunlight in my existence, makes me smile. My mom has only visited twice; she's embarrassed to be here. And Bella, who I open up to.
Today, I have to tell her what happened last night. The memories make my skin crawl and feel ashamed of myself all at the same time. I have to tell her or I'll explode. Poor thing, she will give up on me sooner rather than later if I continue to throw my shit at her, but I can't help it. The others don't know my true self- those are only superficial conversations. But Bella... Bella knows Edward Masen from the inside. She's here to listen.
"Oh… Do I see a ghost? Your skin is so pale. What's wrong?" Bella asks before I even close the door to the meeting room behind me. "Something must be terribly wrong."
"I almost killed a man, Bella. I'm losing it."
I close my eyes and tell her what happened.
They are a bunch of freaks, the so-called Vulture Gang. They name themselves vultures, but are nothing more than idiots, mentally unstable and ridiculously stupid. The bad thing is, they are quite an impressive group. The numbers vary, but there are at least a dozen. The other prisoners shit their pants in fear of making one of them angry. I've learned my lesson by looking at my fellow prisoners' behavior. I'm quiet and plain, and no one notices me.
The problem is, I share a cell with one of them. I have to be extra careful, and I am. I'm in fact non-existent for Felix. The guy is huge as a bulldozer and incredibly dumb. It's a good thing he is not actually evil; he just tries to fit in with the other members of the gang and pretends to be important. When we're alone in the cell, he's quiet, preferring not to talk. I'm so okay with that fact.
But I talk in my sleep, and I've apparently been repeating my love's name. Yesterday morning, I woke up to Felix's face bent over mine, a huge grin on his lips.
"Well, well, well, aren't you a joke? You have a Jasper, uhm? A man can't tell just by looking at you… Do you have pink fleece underwear in that suitcase of yours?"
I blink and gulp, trying to figure out what comes next. I'm not afraid of his physique, I'm afraid of his stupidity. I'm sure he'll want to share the news of my slip up, since he desperately wants to be noticed.
"I know they'll love it when I tell what you've been dreaming about." Yeah, that's right, go tell those idiotic freaks I'm gay. He leaves the cell striding triumphantly. I step out a few minutes after him, heading for the basement.
It's my turn to iron bed sheets. Who needs them ironed, for Christ's sake! This is prison. But I do it, obeying the rules. It's boring and tiring, piles of laundry that never end. I don't even think, robotically stretching my hand out for the next piece. The iron already feels heavy.
The click of the door handle startles me, and I turn abruptly to see a group of men entering. There are six of them; not the whole pack, I realize. Some are probably assigned to prison duties and are missing the show. Strange thing, but I'm not afraid. A crazy thought crosses my mind. Maybe I can reason with them, maybe they're just nasty human beings coming to laugh a little at my expense. What could possibly go wrong with cameras all over the place?
Aro, Caius, and Marcus, known to be the brains of the gang, stand near the far wall. Felix steps ahead of the others and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Demetri and Alec step forward, too. I smirk, thinking of their ridiculous nicknames, labels of belonging to a fraternity. Bullshit, bunch of idiots, that's what they are. I greet them calmly.
"Hi, guys. What's up?"
Felix speaks for the others.
"Coming to check your underwear, babe."
No one calls me 'babe.' Not even Jasper. Something starts boiling inside me.
"You wanna strip for us, doll?" Felix takes another step closer, looking at me while speaking to the others. "Isn't he sweet? Look at those pink cheeks. He's going to put on a show for us, brothers. Aren't you, honey?"
"Of course, I'm not. Leave me alone."
"Oh, he thinks he has a choice." Felix bursts out in laughter, and I hear at least two of the others laughing out loud.
What can possibly go wrong, I repeat to myself. The guards are everywhere.
Then one of the leaders, Aro, closes the distance between us, startling me by putting his hand straight on my ass cheek, slightly squeezing. The hand creeps toward the crack on my behind, and a finger presses through the material of my overall. The psycho is aiming at my hole. Bile rises in my throat.
"Let's get started. Lose the uniform," he whispers in a screeching voice. I close my eyes and gather my will to stay in place. There's nothing more I would like now than to punch the freak in the face, but my common sense stops me.
"Get your dirty hand off me," I hiss, but stubbornly try to stay calm.
"You not willing to show us some beauty?" The screeching voice continues in my ear. The next second, he shouts and nearly deafens me. "Get undressed, faggot!"
I see red.
The iron makes a tiny noise, puffing a little cloud of vapor. That iron is what hits Aro in the head. I hear screaming, a door slamming, then someone snatches the iron from my hand and cuffs my wrists behind my back. My palm is burned. A prison guard uniform hides the rest of the scene, and I can't see what happens to the fallen body at my feet.
They take me to the hospital wing. A nurse takes care of the blisters, and tells me Aro is in the next room, still unconscious. Later in the night, another nurse wakes me for an exam. She tells me Aro's gonna make it; no consequences for me, because the prison authorities have seen the video surveillance record. Thank God.
Why am I feeling guilty?
A faggot. The word echoes in my drowsy mind. I hear myself cry in my sleep.
The new day starts with a meeting with my supervisor. I will be appointed to a weekly schedule of visits with a mental health professional. That's a good thing, I think. Maybe I'll stop torturing Bella with my insanity.