The Parasites That Live in The Cracks

8. Not Selfish

Jamie  They never came. It’s been two hundred years since I got here, the guards know what I am now, and my parents never came. My brother never came. And it’s a wonder I’m still as sane as I am. If you can call me sane.

  I stewed in self-hatred and pity this whole time, fully aware of how unhealthy that is. But, you know, not quite as bad all the other stuff going on. 

  There’s nobody really to talk to here. Everyone is so… Insane. Unable to form coherent sentences, don’t care about anything. They’d all be dead in a heartbeat if they had the chance, but they don’t. I guess I’m not much different that way… 

  I was sitting against the grimy wall when the door opened. I flinched, out of instinct, even though I had no idea why they’d be opening the door. Then I saw why. 

  One of the guards was coming in with a terrified girl who’d been crying very recently. Her life hadn’t been changed for long, I could tell… Her short honey brown hair was still in even curly waves, clothes only slightly wrinkled. It’d been very recent that she was caught… 

  The guard pushed her into the empty cell to my left, where she was left without a word. The girl glanced around at the people surrounding her, eyes widening and a tear slipping out. She wasn’t much older than I was when I got here… I couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was too.

  "Hello," I said, trying to make my voice comforting and trying not to grimace at how raspy it was after so long not being used.

  Her head snapped towards me, looking me up and down with her bright green eyes. I knew how I must look… Not much better than everyone else here.

  "H-hello." She replied. I could hear the fear in her voice, and I could understand perfectly… Even for me, it was a shock to see this when I came in.

  "I'm Jamie. What's your name?"

  "I'm Sabrina. You can call me Bree."

  "Bree... That's a nice name." I hesitated, wondering if my next question would upset her too much before deciding that we’d get to know each other sooner or later. She was, or at least acted, pretty sane. "What did you do to get here?"

  "I killed three people... Almost four... And talked to the voices in my head... And maybe tried to seduce a police officer in order to get out of trouble, but I don’t know that counted or not." She muttered, twiddling her fingers and narrowing her eyes.

  "Voices?" I raised my eyebrows. “Well, you’re a piece of work…” I instantly regretted saying that, it was rude. My people skills were about as rusty as the bars between us… I was just disappointed, the ones who heard voices not only talked to themselves most of the time but went completely insane quicker.

  "Yup... The voice that came out of the secret earpiece that the evil man gave me and told me to do bad things on threats of my family's life..." She whispered, barely audibly, leaning against the wall tiredly.

  "Oh... You shouldn't be here..." I said thoughtfully. “Didn’t you tell anyone about that?” Maybe in a different prison, but only really bad people should be here. Not teenagers forced to murder people on threats to their family… That just wasn’t fair. Not for what happened here...

  "Maybe, maybe not..." Bree said. "Why are you here?" 

  Oh. Me. Yeah. I still couldn’t say it, I’d tried the many times I’d been asked by guards… Mainly in an attempt to get them to leave me alone. So I made up a lie, partly based on truth.  "I found out a secret about this prison, I thought I'd want to see it so I broke in... I took down a bunch of guards and killed one by accident, so once I was in they just kept me in."

  "What was the secret?" Her curiosity got through her fear for a moment, and she looked almost like a little kid being read a story, leaning forward with wide, innocent eyes, wanting to know how it ends.

  "Oh, you'll know soon enough... You'll be happier not knowing..." I said, looking down. I couldn’t bear to meet her gaze, aware that soon those pretty eyes would be as tortured and bloodshot as the rest of ours, her nice clean clothes covered in dirt and blood and other things… 

  I discreetly wiped a tear from my eye, wondering how the world could be so unfair. The fact that she would soon be as crazy as the rest of them made my heartache. 

  I silently promised that I’d make her time here as not sucky as I could. I’d try to comfort her, and distract her from the pain, not let them bully her, and be a friend in the dark bloody depths of this prison until the day she died. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t be alone anymore. 

⇎

  Sabrina had promptly fallen asleep once we’d stopped talking, which was probably good… Rest was a good thing to have, and if she was lucky she’d sleep through the first visit… Sure, she’d feel it later, but it would be easier on her to find out after it's happened than experience the confused horror firsthand. 

  Throwing manners to the wind, I watched her sleep. We’d only spoken briefly, but I felt like I had a connection with her. Maybe it was that she was the first person I’d talked to in so long. 

  I watched her to try to block out the thoughts that had been bothering me for the past hundred years… 

  Crunch.

  Her honey hair had such a nice waviness. 

  That was your brother! 

  She looked so peaceful as she slept. 

  Jealous! Wretched! Unforgiven! Selfish! Murderer! 

  I pulled at my hair and groaned. This should stop, it’d been two centuries! I glanced back at Bree, I was taking care of her now. I didn’t have time for this. 

  Crunch… 

  I sank to the floor, hugging my knees. I wish she’d wake up and talk to me more, so it’d stop… Selfish! No, I didn’t want her to wake up… To experience the horrors… I wanted her out, or even dead, but not here. 

  I leaned back against the wall. I’d stopped looking at the wall. On the hard, concrete surface was writing. In dirt, excrement, blood, stone chipped out of the wall. All the things that are done to the people here that someone before me had once thought would be seen. As if in some inspection someday someone from the outside would see and take it seriously. 

  A mumble came from my side; Sabrina had turned over and her face wasn’t as peaceful now. Her brow furrowed and eyes squeezed tightly shut. She mumbled something else that sounded like a protest. 

  Nightmares… I had them all the time. What was she dreaming of? I hesitantly scooted closer, considering reaching out for her hand. Would that help her? Or scare her? Was that appropriate? 

  “No! I can’t…” She mumbled. 

  Without thinking, I stretched out and took her hand. Her hand grasped mine with a strong grip, her smooth fingers warm and firm. I gently traced invisible pictures on the back of her hand with my thumb, watching her face closely. Was I helping? Was I bringing up things she didn’t want to dream about? 

  Was she going to wake up and be angry at me? Think I was being rude, or inconsiderate? Was I about to ruin my only chance at friendship here? 

  But I held on until she rolled over again and her hand slipped out of mine. Disappointedly, I pulled my hand back to my cell and laid down. Maybe I should get some sleep too. 

  I couldn’t sleep though. My mind was too busy thinking of ways I could protect her… Anyways I could stop her from receiving this kind of torture. 

  I came up with a blank. I couldn’t stop it from happening. Nothing I could say could have much effect. It’s not like either of us could ever leave, so that was no comfort.

The best I could do is try to distract her when it’s worse and give her a friend. 

  The metal door creaked open, and my head snapped around to face it. They were here. It was time.

  Please stay asleep, Bree…