Captivated
Captivated
Michelle plonked herself down on the cold, hard concrete floor of her jail cell.
"Hey, what's up?" Cassandra asked sympathetically, sitting down lightly next to her.
"I miss everyone," Michelle sighed, "I miss Scarlett. I miss Billie Joe and Tre. And I really miss Mike. I was so mean to him."
Cassandra wrapped her arms around Michelle and gave a soft, comforting hug, "Its okay. You'll get used to this place."
"As much as I wanna believe that, I doubt it," Michelle sighed.
"I didn't say you'll forget the ones you love, did I?" Cassandra said, almost breathlessly, "You can't overcome that."
"B-but I'd do anything to get out of here! ANYTHING! I don't belong here! Who can fit in at a place like this, anyway?" Michelle questioned bitterly.
"Being in a jail isn't about fitting in," Cassandra told her wisely, "It's about realising what you did was wrong, and being tortured and victimised for it. The more you fit in, the less comfortable you'll feel."
Michelle paused. She'd heard of heaps of reasons on why people go to jail. And they'd all been the same: Punishment. You do the crime, you do the time. Teach a lesson. Keep the world's streets a safer place to be.
She'd never, ever heard anyone say anything about being tortured or victimised. Until now, anyway.
"Have you heard about those jail suicides?" Michelle asked, a blank expression washing over her face.
"Yeah, what about them?" Cassandra quizzed.
"Has there ever been one here? I mean, like, in this jail?" She explained.
Cassandra shrugged, "I donnow. Maybe, but not while I have been here."
"So what if I did something like that. Like, y'know, strangling myself with a bed sheet or somethin'? Coz, I mean, that's what I sometimes feel like doing, whether I'm in jail or not," Michelle queried.
"What do you mean, 'what if'?"
"Like, would it make any impact on your reputation, me being your roommate?"
"Not really. But I can name someone who'd definitely be impacted by it,"
Michelle looked up, as if she'd just woken up from a nightmare- the only problem was, she wasn't asleep in the first place, "Who?"
"Give ya one guess," Cassandra grinned.
"Cassandra, I seriously have no idea,"
"Mike, silly. Even if you do say you were mean to him, I'd bet ya he'd be beside himself if you did strangle yourself with a bed sheet,"
"Oh, right!" Michelle said a little too loudly, not being able to believe the fact that she wasn't able to figure that out herself.
***
"Oh, my God!" Mike gasped, "How could she do this to me?"
Billie Joe didn't reply- he just shrugged.
"It is absolutely impossible for me to tolerate this anymore! Writing her a note is not enough! There HAS to be another way!" He blabbed.
"Well... " Billie Joe chipped in, "I COULD pay your bail-out fee and we... I mean, you could go sort it out with her face-to-face."
"Bail-out fee?! Why the hell didn't you think of that in the first place?!" Mike cried.
"I donnow," Billie Joe sighed rather lazily.
"Well then come on!" Mike exclaimed.
"Come on what?" Billie Joe yawned.
"Get me out of here!" Mike said through gritted teeth.
"Oh, yeah. That's right," Billie Joe nodded.
***
Cassandra was about to say something, when once again, a police officer called out Michelle's name.
"Yes?" Michelle questioned him.
"Another visitor," He grumbled. Michelle got up, smiled stiffly at the police officer and led herself to the visiting room.
"Tre, if I see you one more time today, I swear I am going to... " She began, but she stopped midway through her sentence.
It was not Tre who had come to see her.
It was the Jesus of Suburbia.
He was standing up, both his hands placed flat on the table in front of him. He had an un-lit cigarette in his mouth, probably because no visitors were allowed to smoke on the premises, and he was probably trying to be smart. He was wearing a typical Jesus of Suburbia outfit- torn black t-shirt that showed off all of the tattoos that ran all the way up his arm and a pair of dirty-blue denim jeans.
At first Michelle thought that he was here to see someone else- maybe St Jimmy or the Gutter Punk were caught out jumping someone or something.
But no- as soon as JOS saw her staring at him, a smile wiped across his face, and he gestured for her to come over to him.
She shrugged and made her way over to him.
"Erm... hi," She said awkwardly.
"Hi," JOS smiled, "Guess what?"
"What?" Michelle asked, half curious.
"I can get you out of here," He grinned cheesily.
"I'm not breaking out of here," She sighed.
"You're not," He explained, a tinge of knowledgeable laughter in his voice, "I can bail you out."
"Nah. You don't have the money. For the crime I committed, it'd be at least $100," She said.
JOS shook his head, "No, I have the money."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large, bulky, cream-coloured envelope. He slid it smoothly under the glass. He kept on sliding it until it was basically touching Michelle's chest. She noticed the cuts that went halfway up JOS' arm, which he'd obviously got from slitting them- typical.
She took the envelope and opened it up carefully. She let out a gasp of shock when she saw what it was- a whole bulk of $50 bills.
She looked up at the JOS.
"How'd you get all this?" She questioned.
"That's not the important thing- well do you want out or not?" JOS quizzed.
Michelle shrugged her shoulders, "I guess so."
She slid the envelope back under the glass. The Jesus of Suburbia smiled at her again, and this time, Michelle smiled back.
"See you in a couple of minutes," He whispered, almost breathlessly.
When JOS had turned the corner of the long hallway, she was still sitting there, staring into nowhere.
Her thoughts were interrupted by someone roughly pushing her in the back.
Michelle looked up to see a gruff-looking female staring back down at her.
"Hey, what do you want?" Michelle asked, rather lightly.
"What do I want? I'll tell you want I want, you freak!" She gripped, grabbing Michelle by the collar, "I wanna strangle you!"
"Woah, woah, woah, woah, whoa! Hold it!" Someone cried- it was JOS. He was followed by a police officer, "Put her down."
The female half-threw half-dropped Michelle to the ground.
She got to her feet, and ran over to JOS. By now she was crying, and she couldn't exactly pinpoint the time where she had exactly started to.
The Jesus of Suburbia wrapped his arms around her.
Michelle was free at last.
"Hey, what's up?" Cassandra asked sympathetically, sitting down lightly next to her.
"I miss everyone," Michelle sighed, "I miss Scarlett. I miss Billie Joe and Tre. And I really miss Mike. I was so mean to him."
Cassandra wrapped her arms around Michelle and gave a soft, comforting hug, "Its okay. You'll get used to this place."
"As much as I wanna believe that, I doubt it," Michelle sighed.
"I didn't say you'll forget the ones you love, did I?" Cassandra said, almost breathlessly, "You can't overcome that."
"B-but I'd do anything to get out of here! ANYTHING! I don't belong here! Who can fit in at a place like this, anyway?" Michelle questioned bitterly.
"Being in a jail isn't about fitting in," Cassandra told her wisely, "It's about realising what you did was wrong, and being tortured and victimised for it. The more you fit in, the less comfortable you'll feel."
Michelle paused. She'd heard of heaps of reasons on why people go to jail. And they'd all been the same: Punishment. You do the crime, you do the time. Teach a lesson. Keep the world's streets a safer place to be.
She'd never, ever heard anyone say anything about being tortured or victimised. Until now, anyway.
"Have you heard about those jail suicides?" Michelle asked, a blank expression washing over her face.
"Yeah, what about them?" Cassandra quizzed.
"Has there ever been one here? I mean, like, in this jail?" She explained.
Cassandra shrugged, "I donnow. Maybe, but not while I have been here."
"So what if I did something like that. Like, y'know, strangling myself with a bed sheet or somethin'? Coz, I mean, that's what I sometimes feel like doing, whether I'm in jail or not," Michelle queried.
"What do you mean, 'what if'?"
"Like, would it make any impact on your reputation, me being your roommate?"
"Not really. But I can name someone who'd definitely be impacted by it,"
Michelle looked up, as if she'd just woken up from a nightmare- the only problem was, she wasn't asleep in the first place, "Who?"
"Give ya one guess," Cassandra grinned.
"Cassandra, I seriously have no idea,"
"Mike, silly. Even if you do say you were mean to him, I'd bet ya he'd be beside himself if you did strangle yourself with a bed sheet,"
"Oh, right!" Michelle said a little too loudly, not being able to believe the fact that she wasn't able to figure that out herself.
***
"Oh, my God!" Mike gasped, "How could she do this to me?"
Billie Joe didn't reply- he just shrugged.
"It is absolutely impossible for me to tolerate this anymore! Writing her a note is not enough! There HAS to be another way!" He blabbed.
"Well... " Billie Joe chipped in, "I COULD pay your bail-out fee and we... I mean, you could go sort it out with her face-to-face."
"Bail-out fee?! Why the hell didn't you think of that in the first place?!" Mike cried.
"I donnow," Billie Joe sighed rather lazily.
"Well then come on!" Mike exclaimed.
"Come on what?" Billie Joe yawned.
"Get me out of here!" Mike said through gritted teeth.
"Oh, yeah. That's right," Billie Joe nodded.
***
Cassandra was about to say something, when once again, a police officer called out Michelle's name.
"Yes?" Michelle questioned him.
"Another visitor," He grumbled. Michelle got up, smiled stiffly at the police officer and led herself to the visiting room.
"Tre, if I see you one more time today, I swear I am going to... " She began, but she stopped midway through her sentence.
It was not Tre who had come to see her.
It was the Jesus of Suburbia.
He was standing up, both his hands placed flat on the table in front of him. He had an un-lit cigarette in his mouth, probably because no visitors were allowed to smoke on the premises, and he was probably trying to be smart. He was wearing a typical Jesus of Suburbia outfit- torn black t-shirt that showed off all of the tattoos that ran all the way up his arm and a pair of dirty-blue denim jeans.
At first Michelle thought that he was here to see someone else- maybe St Jimmy or the Gutter Punk were caught out jumping someone or something.
But no- as soon as JOS saw her staring at him, a smile wiped across his face, and he gestured for her to come over to him.
She shrugged and made her way over to him.
"Erm... hi," She said awkwardly.
"Hi," JOS smiled, "Guess what?"
"What?" Michelle asked, half curious.
"I can get you out of here," He grinned cheesily.
"I'm not breaking out of here," She sighed.
"You're not," He explained, a tinge of knowledgeable laughter in his voice, "I can bail you out."
"Nah. You don't have the money. For the crime I committed, it'd be at least $100," She said.
JOS shook his head, "No, I have the money."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large, bulky, cream-coloured envelope. He slid it smoothly under the glass. He kept on sliding it until it was basically touching Michelle's chest. She noticed the cuts that went halfway up JOS' arm, which he'd obviously got from slitting them- typical.
She took the envelope and opened it up carefully. She let out a gasp of shock when she saw what it was- a whole bulk of $50 bills.
She looked up at the JOS.
"How'd you get all this?" She questioned.
"That's not the important thing- well do you want out or not?" JOS quizzed.
Michelle shrugged her shoulders, "I guess so."
She slid the envelope back under the glass. The Jesus of Suburbia smiled at her again, and this time, Michelle smiled back.
"See you in a couple of minutes," He whispered, almost breathlessly.
When JOS had turned the corner of the long hallway, she was still sitting there, staring into nowhere.
Her thoughts were interrupted by someone roughly pushing her in the back.
Michelle looked up to see a gruff-looking female staring back down at her.
"Hey, what do you want?" Michelle asked, rather lightly.
"What do I want? I'll tell you want I want, you freak!" She gripped, grabbing Michelle by the collar, "I wanna strangle you!"
"Woah, woah, woah, woah, whoa! Hold it!" Someone cried- it was JOS. He was followed by a police officer, "Put her down."
The female half-threw half-dropped Michelle to the ground.
She got to her feet, and ran over to JOS. By now she was crying, and she couldn't exactly pinpoint the time where she had exactly started to.
The Jesus of Suburbia wrapped his arms around her.
Michelle was free at last.