Honest

two

I find myself anxious to go back to work the next day. I want to know what that man will say.

He doesn't disappoint.

I sit down. It's dark again. Even though he can see me, I want to stay on the safe side.

He says nothing, but I can see his hands are crossed on the table.

“How are you feeling, today Ray?”

“Most of the staff in here just calls me inmate 2849615. I'm almost not used to someone saying my name.”

I smile. “Well, in nine days, you'll be hearing your name again. You should get used to it.”

“To hearing my name? Or hearing you say it?”

My smile drops. It's not out of the ordinary for inmates to flirt with me. But somehow, when he does it, it seems...

Different.

It's not lecherous. It's not desperate. It's so casual, like he was hitting on a girl at a bar.

Like he just wants to see how far he can get me to go before he takes me home.

I lick my lip, looking down at my paper. I usually don't have to look down, and I have strain because of the dark.

“So, Ray,” I focus on the next question, “How are you feeling about your upcoming release date?”

He shifts. “I prefer prison somewhat. The world is full of unremarkable people, going about their unremarkable lives. I don't find much interest in it.”

I frown, scribbling. “Well, that's a unkind thing to say. Everyone is special. No one is unremarkable.”

He snorts. “That is what they say isn't it? But it's not true. See, they say everyone is special. So in the end: no one is. People who truly are special are forced to be ashamed of the talents they have. You're not special they say. You're just like everyone else.”

Fascinating. His tone is point blank, with a hint of sarcasm.

“So you believe that only a few people in the world are special?”

He sits back. His eyes stare into mine.

“I think the words speak for themselves. Everyone cannot be special. Special is something out of the ordinary. If being special is ordinary, then you aren't special, are you? Now, everyone is different, that is true. But being different isn't being special.”

Interesting. At first it seemed like he was just a pompous ass, who believed only a few could be special, and he was one of them.

“And do you believe you're special?”

He pauses. The air is laden with an answer, but he won't breathe it out. It's like he's holding it.

“I...I think I'm different. Special is supposed to be good, right? That's why everyone want to be it. Yeah. I'm different.”

Huh. So he doesn't think he's special. Or, he could be lying.

But no. Somehow, I don't think that's it.

“Ray, what will do when you get out?”

The air chills. “You don't want to know.”

I open my mouth, to refute that statement. “You don't want to know, Doctor brown.” He restantes sternly.

I scribble.

“Last question for today: What positive experiences, if any did you have today?”

There's that chill again. “You came in. You look so beautiful in yellow. It compliments your golden brown skin perfectly.”

I look down, my pen pausing above the paper. Slowly, I put it down, not knowing what to write.

What to feel.

“T-Thank you.” I get up, clenching my jaw.

“Oh, Doctor Brown?” He sings lowly. I pause. “Don't forget your pen. You wouldn't want to lose it, I'm sure.”

I take the pen from the table, trying to dart away. His hand comes down on mine. One of the chains lays against my wrist, heavy and cold.

“You are so very beautiful,” He murmurs roughly. “I hope you'll give me the privilege of seeing you with the lights on.”

I snatch away from him, swallowing. Why is his voice be so alluring.

He's like a siren, singing in the pitch black ocean, luring all the broken hearted to his kiss.

Kiss. I wonder...

I dart away, literally smacking myself. I'm f*****g ridiculous. I will not be seduced by a criminal.

I will not.