The endless screaming and shouting of men who've been in there too long kept Jack up at night, along with the hanging fluorescent light that was never turned off.
He's only been in here for six days and his mind was slowly, but surely falling apart. With each minute that goes by, his rage just builds up, and he knows that he'll eventually just snap, just like the rest of the men that he shared the hallway with.
With his hands pillowed behind his head, Jack fixed his eyes on the only light he had. He sat up on his thin plastic mattress when he heard three hard and rough knocks on the doors then watched his lunch tray slide through the slot on the door.
Jack walked across the eighty square foot cell- that wasn't much bigger than the king sized bed he had at home - and grabbed his lunch tray, telling him that it was nine in the morning.
Jack knew what time of day it was by keeping track of the schedule and listening in on conversations once he got passed the screaming and ranting of other convicts.
The routine was simple and it was like living the exact same day over and over again, and it didn't really consist of much :
To start off the day, breakfast would be at three in the morning which was always the same : a cold egg, a biscuit, and a pint of milk that may or may not be expired.
Then at six, Jack would be handcuffed through the slot of his cell door and escorted exactly thirty-four steps to a wired a cage where he got an hour to work out next to other inmates in their individual cages before they handcuffed him and took him to the showers then back to his cell.
Lunch would roll around at ten with food you would never even think of throwing to your dog or worst enemy. It was cold and who knew what the hell it was.
After lunch Jack was given a pen and paper where he was allowed to write a letter to the person of his choice, but the letters never got to where they were supposed to go, they would supposedly get "lost", or so the guards say, so he just stopped writing.
The last meal of the day was at three, the last bite he would get until three in the next morning.
The guards would constantly tell them, "We aren't here to feed your dumbasses or cater to y'all, we are simply here to keep you sons of bitches alive until we kill you."
Of course Jack was smart enough to know they didn't mean murder them, but to strip away the bare essence of their humanity and sense to self, and that was the same thing if not worse.
They were set to achieve the biggest accomplishment that anyone ever could, and that was to break a man's will to live, and Jack knew it'd be sooner than later when they break his.
Once he finished swallowing the last piece of the dry biscuit, Jack chased it down with a gulp of milk and took his tray back to the door where he could see out the small window and across the hall.
A garnish red was smeared across Vinegar's cell window. Yates, one of the guards, walked up to the door and started talking to him. "Scott, talk to me, man." He dryly said, not convincing anyone that he actually cares.
"I can't!" Vinegar shouted at him.
"Why can't you?"
Vinegar lowered his voice and replied in his thick Jersey accent. "Cause I got four others talking in my head, dumbass."
"Okay, okay." Yates chuckled as he signaled two other guards over to the door.
Jack backed up from the door and went back over to his bed, knowing what was about to happen, only because it happened four other times this week.
He heard the jingle of the keys then the sound of the door swinging opening. Before he could zone out like he wanted to, the disturbing sound of a helpless man screaming as he was beaten and jumped by the guards rang through the tier.
Once it was over, Jack stood up and reluctantly walked over to the door where he could see into the room, Vinegar's blood painting half of his cell red and he knew another guy in the hall smuggled him a razor.
There was no doubt in Jack's mind that was the reason Yates and the other guards did that, because they did it before. Every time an inmate harmed themselves, the guards would get pissed when the blood got everywhere cause they had to clean it up after they took the inmate to get fixed up.
Selena stepped across the white fur rug then took a seat on the black loveseat of Monica's home in Detroit. She observed the walls that were decorated with black and white pictures of New York and other cities.
"I like this black and white theme you got going on. It's very..." Selena grabbed the white fur pillow that matched the rug and snickered. "Modern."
Monica sat a water bottle on the glass table for Selena before she tied her long purple hair into a high ponytail. "Where's Dyl and Nye?" She asked.
"Texas with my parents."
Monica nodded and sipped her water. "Have you seen Jack?"
Selena shook her head. "No...He's in solitary confinement an-"
Her words were cut off with a gasp from a wide eyed Monica. "What? How'd the hell did he end up there?"
"The lady in front said it was a fight. I tried writing to him, but he never writes back."
"Yeah, well it's probably not him. It's them...they rarely give the letters to them and it's no reason behind it, they're just fucked up people who don't give a damn about other people or the families."
Selena's chest felt heavy and her skin started to heat up, so she took a long second to say anything back, exhaling deeply before speaking.
"I just hope he's okay. It's not good to be alone with just your thoughts, and I just don't want him to come home a different person. It took years for him to just be half as normal as he used to be, and I'm afraid that there's no going back this time."
"He'll be okay, Lena. I know he'll be." Monica said, giving her an assuring grin.
After Selena returned a soft small, Monica let out a squeal and did a small bounce, showing off her pearly whites. Selena brows lifted in curiosity. "Are you okay?"
"Bitch, it's been like five minutes and you haven't noticed?" Monica rolled her eyes. "Why do I always have to draw you a picture? Look!"
Monica shoved her hand in Selena's face, something sharp almost cutting the skin on her forehead. Selena grabbed Monica's wrist, forcing it away from her face as she blinked repeatedly to gain back her vision to see a squared diamond ring.
"What is this?" She asked, her lips twisting into a frown.
"What do you think?" A sly grin brightened up Monica's face. "I'm engaged!"
Selena tsk'ed. "To Leon?"
Monica nodded eagerly, obvious that she was excited to the stars and back.
"Wow, I should've know from that bruise on your eyebrow that you were still with him."
Monica ignored her comment and took her hand away from Selena and admired the ring. "Isn't it beautiful?" She sang.
Selena leaned back into the couch and folded her arms across her chest. "What did he do? Steal it?"
Monica sucked her teeth, a hint of anger sparking in her deep brown eyes. "Why the hell do you have to say shit like that? I was happy for you when you and Jack got engaged."
"Jack never hit me."
"No, but he did cheat."
"Not the same thing."
"Does it matter? In the end, it hurts just the same, doesn't it? And either way, neither of us are going anywhere, so it's best that we just shut up and accept the love that we're given, even if it isn't as romantic as we thought."
Selena shook her head, getting rid of every opinion she had on this engagement out of her head. "You're right. I'm happy for you." She lied.
Selena went to sit on the opposite couch with Monica and hugged her tight. "Congratulations."
"Thank you." She felt Monica's embrace get tighter when she said those words, and she knew then that she wasn't the only one who didn't want Monica to marry this man.
Selena and Monica pulled apart when the front door opened. She watched as a gentle smile graced her face as Leon walked in, his sleeves of ink visible whilst he carried two bags into the kitchen.
"Speak of the devil." Blush stained Monica's cheeks as she teased him with a sly grin. "I just told Selena about our engagement."
"Oh, really?" Leon chuckled deeply and started taking Chinese food out of the bags. "Hope you're happy for us."
Selena gave him a crooked smile. "Ecstatic." She muttered.
Monica jumped up from the couch and walked over to the counter. "Come eat with us." She offered, taking a Chinese box for herself.
Selena stood up and grabbed her keys, happy to decline the invitation. "I can't. I'm gonna go over to Evelyn's and see the guys before Angel and Jerry go home and then I gotta head back to Texas."
"You sure?"
"Very sure."
Monica sighed. "Okay, call me later then. I'll see you soon."
"See you later." Selena grabbed her purse and just before she could even start walking toward the door, she heard her name get called by someone who wasn't Monica.
"I'll walk you to your car." Leon offered.
Selena took in a deep breath and nodded, not risking it to even decline cause she knew he was gonna push it anyways.
He walked behind her out of the house and followed her to her car, unfortunately for her, the car was around the corner where the door and window were no longer visible and neither were they.
Selena hurried to open the door, but just as she did, the palm of Leon's hand shut it as his other hand rested beside her head, trapping her.
She turned around to see his blue eyes peering into hers. Her breath was caught in her throat and she couldn't remain calm with his eyes boring into hers, so she observed the "NC moment" tattoo that peeked out of his shirt and spread out on his neck.
"Can you back up from me...please." Selena asked, her stomach bottoming out as she could feel the blood pumping in her veins.
Leon gave her soft smile. "Yeah, when I'm done talking to you." The sharpness of his voice completely opposite from his smile. "Now, listen to me good cause I won't tell you again..."
Selena locked her knees and stood her ground, doing her best to not feel threatened, but she'd be lying to herself if she said she wasn't.
"If you try to convince Monica out of this wedding or you try to do anything to fuck this up then I will come for you, especially now since your nigga is locked up and even if he wasn't, I will still find a way for you to end up on the news."
At the mention of Jack being locked up and her maybe ending up dead, a sudden boldness struck her and words spurred out before she could realize who she was talking to.
"You might be something with a gun in your hand, but right now you aren't shit...If you ever lay a fist on Monica again, I'll have people coming for you and you'll be the one missing and when they find you, they're gonna have to get about ten people to identify you...Try me bitch. I want you too."
Before Selena could process everything she had said, his calloused hands grasped for her neck with his eyes burning with rage and emptiness.
Leon leaned closer to her, his lips brushing against her ear. "No, you try me bitch." He hissed. "Don't take me for liar. This is Detroit, we don't bluff..."
Her nails dug into his skin ; the edge of Selena's vision began to go dark as she could feel his fingers tightening around her throat, his grip to strong to wriggle out of.
"I might burn your body crisp. I could put a bullet through your head...slit your throat from ear to ear, and I might have a good time with you before I do it. It's your choice, but I promise you, it will happen." He growled with a small laugh that was filled with everything but humor.
Small ragged breaths escaped her throat and gratefully, before her soul could leave her body, Leon released her, making her drop to the concrete. Only then, Selena realized that he had lifted her off the ground.
Her face was a sickening purple and her lungs ached. She was still struggling to catch her breath when Leon crouched down to her level and a smirk tugged at his lips.
"You might wanna get some makeup for that." He pointed at the new red fingerprints marked on her throat. "Have a goodnight." Leon puckered his lips and sucked them, sending her a kiss before leaving and walking back into the house, leaving Selena alone with a clear message.