I just wanted to see if this was any good at all... It's no where near finished so expect lots of changes. Commets and constructive criticism greatly appreciated!
"Ian, where are you? Stop walking away from me! Come back here asshole!" I stumbled through the dark after a mop of ginger hair.
"Seriously Ian, stop. Ian… stop… please," I whispered. "PLEASE!"
Out of the blue a noise pierced my skull. It was so loud I would have pushed my pillow into my ears just to make it stop. Then I opened my eyes.
"Wakey wakey!" chirped Sam. "Time for breakfast!"
Sam is my cell mate. He is a huge guy, scares the shit out of all the inmates, and half the guards. It's a pretty big achievement seeing as these people have seen some sketchy characters. He is basically the size of two line backers and a half, plus the height of Yao Ming. Sam isn't even a mean guy; ya sure he could be a fucking pain in the ass, but I could have had it worse. The only reason he's in here is because he took the fall for his kid brother. Bad meth deal or something dumb like that. He got 6 months.
I shuffled along in the line, waiting for the minimal serving of crap to be dumped onto my plate. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of red, and all the muscles in my body tensed as I turned my neck. False alarm… again. The red headed guard stared back at me like I was on something. I focused back on my tray, muscles loosening. I let out the mother of all sighs and grumbled to myself about this shit hole.
"Chill bro," muttered Sam.
I responded to him with a glare. He smirked at me, all-knowing and gloating. I was a second away from physically ripping that grin off his face, before another floating in my mind stopped me. I knew I had to be on good behaviour if I wanted to get out and see Firecrotch. Fucking Gallagher. It's his fault Sam gave me that look in the first place.
I never meant to tell Sam about Ian. In reality, I never actually told him, he just figured it out. When I first got in here, I was a little bitch. All jumpy and jittery. Every flash of red, and every mention of the name Ian (there is a inmate named Ian.. the little fuck) set my teeth on edge. Sam knew something was wrong with me, he just didn't know what the hell it was - kept fucking asking me about it too. He sometimes just does not know when to shut up. He was getting no answers from me, so he started to put it together himself. Ian, the ginger… all the little pieces almost fitting together. I might of had a chance at keeping him a secret if I hadn't gone and fucked myself over. But, how could I resist? I did it subconsciously, literally, and I only knew when he confronted me about it later. I was having a wet dream, and Sam knew it. I mean how could you not? I was moaning and tossing around in my bunk. As you might have guessed, I was moaning to Ian, with Ian about Ian. Ian, Ian, Ian. After that there was no way Ian could be my brother I was missing, or my best friend or some shit. And there was no way I could pass him as my girlfriend, I mean have you ever met a girl named Ian? So I was screwed, and still am.