Don't Ever Play With Guns

"I didn’t fucking do anything!"

"Have fun cracker," I pulled myself from the officers grip, racing to this guys cell.

"You say one more word nigger, and I'll kick your ass to the curb," I growled angrily, silently begging him to get up. He didn't, just smirked at me as I heard the guard get closer. My eyes widened and my vision went black as I was clubbed over the head.

When I woke up, it was deathly silent. Was I waking up in real life, or was I still in this fuck hole they call jail...? My head was pounding, and it hurt to open my eyes.

I groaned, trying to lift my arm to hold my head. It just caused more pain. "Food," Someone barked, and a loud clatter of metal hitting concrete met my ears. It made my head pound even worse. I looked down at the floor as best I could, seeing a glob of what they called food on the plate. I sighed, letting my head rest back against the cot.

I was still in jail. Perfect. I rubbed my head, feeling a large gash. I looked at my hand, finding it covered in blood. I looked around, finding blood everywhere. It's fucking amazing that I woke up!
I slowly sat up, and looked around. Nothing but the cot. "Don't I get a fucking medic or something?!" I exclaimed.

"What the fuck are you complaining about?" I heard a guard yell.

"There's fucking blood everywhere!"

"They're not going to help you, you might as well get used to it." I looked over at the opposite wall...or rather, set of bars to see a woman leaning against it. It was too dark to see what she looked like though.

"Why...? Would they rather me fucking die?"

"Yes. Then they have less people to deal with," She sighed.

"That's gay," I rolled my eyes. She didn't answer. I was quiet for awhile, not really feeling hungry. "...So...what are you in for...?"

"Arson. My best friend and I decided to smoke for once and it burned a whole fucking club down. Nobody died, but people sued for false injuries so we're stuck here. She's across from you."

"What...?" I said, slowly turning around.

"She's sleeping." The woman answered with a yawn. I saw her shadowed figure get up and stretch. "You might as well too. More sleep means your gash will heal faster. That and it'll pass time so I can actually see who I'm talking to in the morning."

"Why...? Who am I talking to?"

"You'll figure it out in the morning. Goodnight," She chuckled.

"But I'm not tired..." I whined.

"I'd offer to help with that but it's kind of hard to have sex with bars," She teased.

"I could manage," I chuckled, sitting up.

"Down boy. It's easier to have sex if you know what the person looks like," She snickered.