Story Idea: Jail Time

by Paige in my world of make-believe

Author's Note: a story i started about a year ago and never got to typing... probably won'tcontinue much more with it until i'm done with ToSH... warning: may not be appropriate from children under 11...

Jail Time
Story Idea
9/29/07

“Come on! Come on you stupid thing!” Joel shut his eyes and concentrated. Why wasn’t it working? It worked earlier, of course it didn’t last for long and he was caught anyway, but still, it should work again.
“Shut up. I’m beginning to think you’re ‘bought as crazy as I am.” The gruff voice behind Joel stated.
Joel opened his red eyes and stared at his cell mate. “I’m crazier by far. Unlike your pathetic, scared brown eyes, my eyes thirst for blood, and my eyes aren’t the only things strange about me.” He growled.
“Ha, yeah, I bet your dick is pretty strange, too. What color is it? Purple?” The 6ft9, dark brown haired man laughed crazily at his own joke. He was a threat to everyone else in the prison, but not to Joel. Joel was not scared by this fool. With muscles of steal and a loud, deep voice, anyone in their right mind would tremble in dear. But not Joel, then again, anyone who knew Joel would say he wasn’t in his right mind.
“Curse this place. Curse these walls. CURSE YOU!” Joel yelled, banging his fists against the bars in fury. His eyes were glazed, evilly. “I need to get out of here…”
“Hey! Shut up! Get back! You look like a worthless monkey looking out its cage when you do that!” A guard came over and stood in front of the scowling Joel.
“You better be thankful that I’m not as skinny as your little ass or else I’d be through these bars and strangling your neck.” Joel snarled.
“Ha, you’ve got spunk, but that won’t help you any in this place. This place is hell. You ain’t in the normal kind of prison. This one is for the loonies. I’ll warn you now, you better watch your mouth around here.”
“You better watch your back, I might be stabbing it sometime soon.” Joel hissed as the guard started to leave.
Suddenly, the guard turned around and slapped Joel’s nose. Joel cringed, backing away from the door, clutching his nose. The guard sneered and walked away. He was lucky that he was the only guard on watch. If his boss had seen that, Joel knew the guard was taking chances, but maybe the guard was favored. Maybe it could happen again, maybe it wouldn’t, Joel could take the pain of a few more slaps, but only if it meant possibly getting the guard fired.
The stinging slap tingled for a while longer, then went away. Joel stepped back and spit at the floor. He wasn’t a big man, only about 6ft2, but he had lengthy legs and well-built arms. He wasn’t anything compared to his cellmate, but he had more brains than the buff brute, that was for sure.
Joel could feel the brute watch him for a few seconds, and then spoke. “You think you can get outta here, boy? Your truly are insane.”
Joel only laughed. He slouched to the floor, his bright orange suit stood out well against the dark, gray wall. He glared at the opposite wall, not once blinking, for a good five minutes.
The cellmate watched him from the bottom bunk, concealing his wonder behind solid eyes of hate. “You’re gonna start to smell.” He replied then, sneering. “You don’t wanna get too close to The Bowl.”
“Shut up.” But Joel took the brute’s warning in mind and moved over to the hard, cold, three-person bench on the back wall.
“I guess I can’t call you brute, so what’s your name?” Joel asked his steroid-using, brainless cellmate.
“My name is Logan,” Joel’s cellmate replied, his eyes narrowing, then he sneered as he went on by saying, “But the other inmates call me Smash.”
“Why do they call you that?” Joel asked, as if he had seen someone else in his life time who deserved the name more.
“Because I smash things. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but these walls are different from any other cell walls. They are covered with the thickest cement, you wanna know why?”
Joel didn’t answer, he continued to stare at Logan with unblinking, red eyes.
“Cuz the last cell I was in didn’t last long. I used the bench and smashed right through the wall.”
Joel looked at the walls, which were a darker gray than the other walls outside of the cell. He then looked at the bench, which was cemented to the ground.
He sneered and turned back to Logan. “My name is Judas. I was put in this lame-ass place because I stole from a store and murdered the store keeper, but before I left I cut out his heart and ate it. They want me in here for twenty years, maybe hoping my mind will fry by then. Ha, yeah right! I’ll find a way out, I always do.”
Logan felt a cold stab in his stomach as Joel suddenly turned to stare at him with the last few words. Logan didn’t no whether to believe Joel’s story or not, but he already believed that he wasn’t messing with an ordinary criminal.
“What makes you so sure you can get outta here? Almost all of us has tried. I’ve tried about twenty times. There’s no way to get outta this dump.” Logan said, frowning.
“Yes there is, there is always a way out of somewhere you don’t want to be.” Joel whispered, and he watched a new guard come bars.
“Break time.” The guard growled.
Joel stole a glance at Logan, his eyes sparkling. Logan stared. What was this new fool, who called himself Judas, planning?