Note: Tsvetan's case manager - 2p!Canada
Netherlands - Jan
Macau - Cheng
Punk!England – Arthur
…
"So, Mr Borisov, let's cut to the chase."
Tsvetan looked up, eyes red rimmed and bloodshot. He did not sleep at all last night; instead he lay on his cold, hard bunk staring into nothingness, feeling as if he had died. Now, sitting on an uncomfortable chair across from his tough-looking case manager, he felt as if he had been dragged back from the afterlife kicking and screaming.
His case manager stared back at him, peering lazily over the ray-bans sunglasses he insisted on wearing inside. He folded his arms and leant back in his chair, flicking open a pack of cigarettes. To be honest, Tsvetan thought the man looked more like a murderer than he did. His frame was wiry but muscular, and his surprisingly soft blond hair was drawn into a messy ponytail. One curl stuck up from the rest of his hair, defying gravity as it bounced above his head. For some reason, Tsvetan couldn't stop staring at it,
"T-the chase?"
"Look, I don't wanna hear any of your pitiful little wines about you being innocent or some shit. I've been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. We're here today to discuss your future, not your past."
Tsvetan gulped. In his nervous state, he found himself unconsciously shaking his head, agreeing with his case manager's statement. His case manager raised one blond eyebrow menacingly, and Tsvetan hastily corrected himself.
"So, first thing's first kid. You don't have a future."
"I… What?"
"You heard me. You're in this shithouse for seventeen fucking years, if you can survive, that is." The case manager leant back again, lit his cigarette, and inhaled deeply. After a few seconds, he noticed Tsvetan watching him. "Want one?" he said, offering him the grubby packet.
Tsvetan declined. He used to smoke, but he decided that perhaps he should take up the opportunity to give up. If he was going to be imprisoned here for seventeen years, he might as well try his best to treat his body well.
"Anyway, I'm here to give you some advice."
Tsvetan looked up.
"This isn't the most dangerous prison in the country, not by a long shot. However, it's still full of people who would beat you up without showing any mercy. You're a child killer, which means that you're one fucked up little weakling, so you better watch your back."
Tsvetan's throat suddenly felt very dry. Hastily, he tried to swallow, but ended up coughing. The coughs that racked his body somehow changed on their way into insane giggling, which, in turn, transformed into dry sobbing. The case manager watched him coolly from the other side of the desk, blowing tiny puffs of smoke into Tsvetan's face.
"The most important thing is to stay out of trouble. Don't go messing around with any of the tough looking gangs, they won't give you protection, they'll just beat the shit out of you. Just keep your head down and maintain a low profile, understand?"
Tsvetan remembered to nod this time, trying desperately to calm his breathing. He could feel his heart rate quickening, and he gripped the edge of the desk for support. I can't even take talking about life in prison, he thought desperately, hiccupping, how am I going to cope living it?
…
When Tsvetan first stumbled into the recreation area, his first though was that it was full of faces straight out of a horror movie. His every action seemed amplified and incredibly visible, picked up by the hardened criminals with the pinpoint precision of a deadly shark, just waiting to strike. And Tsvetan, fit as he was, would be crushed as easily as a minnow.
His case manager's words echoed in his mind as he made his way through the room, searching for a secluded spot where he could keep his head down and stay unnoticed. That corner seemed good…
He'd only just made his way past the most hard-bitten of his inmates when suddenly he felt his feet slip out from under him, bringing him crashing down. He landed on something large and hard, and he hastily righted himself, blurting out apologies at top speed. However, once he met the eyes of the person he had fallen on, his apologies stopped dead on his tongue.
A pair of cold, startlingly green eyes glared at him silently from out of a long, chiselled face. A scar above the man's eyebrow arched into his untruly hair that stood on end in careful blonde spikes. The man's glare drilled down deep into Tsvetan and almost reduced him to jelly, it was so hostile.
"I-I'm sorry-" he squeaked, before all noise died down in his throat once again.
He had attracted the attention of this man's companions, who peered around his back to size Tsvetan up. To Tsvetan's amazement and utter relief, he noticed a familiar face leaning over the blond's shoulder.
"Oh, it's you." Alin scowled at Tsvetan, red eyes cold. "Just leave him Jan, he's too weak to do anything deliberate."
Tsvetan was torn halfway between protesting against his cellmate's accusations and kissing the ground at his feet for saving him. The tall man, Jan, looked ready to rip his throat out.
"Alin, do you know him?" This question had come from a small, rather childlike man with violet eyes who was staring at Tsvetan curiously.
Alin exhaled sharply through his nose and looked away. "Yeah, this is my new cellmate."
"I'm Tsvetan Borisov," Tsvetan offered. He tried to ignore Alin's glares of obvious contempt.
The other prisoners introduced themselves begrudgingly, some of them with more obvious underlining threat in their words. A dignified Asian man, Cheng, shook his hand politely, while a punkish youth, Arthur, just sneered at him and raised two fingers. Tino, the small one, introduced him with a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. Tsvetan did his best to appear tough but likeable, but he was still extremely uncertain. His case manager had told him not to join any groups or make any friends, but what choice did he have? And all the while, the unspoken question hovered like threatening smog, hiding the true faces of those in front of him.
What did you do to end up here?
Tsvetan could only pray that it remained unasked.
"So this is your first day here?" Tino was still chattering on cheerfully, apparently unaware of the tension. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. I was really scared when I first came here too, but I'm doing okay now. Everyone else knows not to mess with me anymore." Under those throwaway comments was a hardened undertone, with an obvious message. Don't even think of trying anything.
"So how long are you going to be spending in here, mister Borisov?" asked Cheng, folding his hands in his lap. Tsvetan hesitated slightly before answering, a small quiver in his voice.
"S-seventeen years…"
There was a collective intake of breath around the table, sharp and fearful.
"So you're a lifer?" It was Arthur who had spoken, leaning his elbows on the table. "What the hell did a scrawny git like you do to earn yourself a life sentence?!"
"I'll tell you what he fucking did."
There was a heavy silence as everyone turned to look at Alin, his red eyes blazing. He had not spoken a word since Tsvetan first sat down until now; he had obviously let his anger stew until he couldn't stand it anymore.
"This man, this disgrace of a human being, has murdered a child, an eight year old girl, in cold blood. He stabbed her until her blood ran out onto the streets and the light drained from her eyes."
"I didn't-"
"And he still has the gall to proclaim himself innocent. Is that your way of coping, huh?" Alin's fists where clenched, words hard and painful. "You convinced yourself that it's all a lie? That's pathetic. You're disgraceful, pathetic, fucked up excuse of a person."
Tsvetan couldn't move. All he could do was sit there and listen to the angry words spilling from his cellmate's mouth. This was how the entire world saw him; this is who he was according to humanity…
The scraping of a chair broke the spell as Jan stood up. He didn't speak, he didn't raise a hand, as Tsvetan was expecting. Instead, he turned around and walked off, leaving their small company without another word.
"Jan!" Cheng stood up, rushing after the retreating figure of his friend. He was soon followed by Arthur, and finally, Tino. Only Tino spared Tsvetan a glance before he left, one so full of contempt and fear that Tsvetan felt his insides tremble.
Now it was only himself and Alin sitting around the table. He could feel the force of the Romanian man's stare boring through his skull, but he still refused to meet his eyes.
"Well? Aren't you going to leave me alone as well?" Tsvetan said bitterly.
Alin took a little while before replying, but his response cut even deeper into Tsvetan's heart. "It doesn't matter if I do or if I don't. You'll always be alone."
…
Hi guys, this is Stars! I hope this chapter matches up to the last one! (It does!)
Any suggestions for the names of the 2p characters?
