You Can't Spell Slaughter Without Laughter

In about a week, I saw my reflection in a Plexiglas window thing. I looked like a zombie. My hair was all messed up, I had dark circles under my eyes, and I was paler than usual. I think I lost a little weight, too.

I didn't recognize myself.

Kyle doesn't speak to me often anymore. In the rec yard, he talks to his friends. I tried a few times to join them, but Kyle always found a way to ditch me. I talked to Taylor a lot. He was older than me and had more experience. This was his second time here.

"I've been in a town famous for their homophobia," Taylor said. "Kids always made fun of me. Parents and teachers always judged my parents. My parents always judged me." I would talk to him about Shaun and his death. He said when he grew up, he wanted to be a LGBT spokesperson. He said with my permission, he'd like to use Shaun's experience as an example of gay-bullying.

"That would be great. It's really great to know you're gonna do something with your life. I'll grow up to be like a hobo or some cat lady-man." I chuckled.

"You could do something really great, Jake. You know what you problem is?"

"I'm too short?" I joked. Taylor laughed.

"No. You have like zip self confidence in yourself. You know the cheesy sayings like, 'You gotta love yourself before loving someone else?' Well, it's kinda true." Taylor said.

"You sound like my grandpa." I said. Taylor is so wise and helpful and sure of himself. It's almost intimidating. Shaun was kind of like that. Gay and proud. Are all gays like that? I don't think I can do that. I can't stand if front of everybody in the world and say, "Look at me! I'm gay!" because I'm too scared. I don't like people looking at me. Does that mean I belong in the closet? I don't want to be gay anymore. Shaun isn't here, it feels wrong. I can't do it alone.

"I feel a little woozy, Taylor. I'm just gonna ask to go back to my cell." I say. Taylor takes my hand and brings me to the guard. The guard takes me back to my cell.

I trace the places where Taylor's hand was on mine. I felt dirty. Someone I'm not.
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"You have a visitor, Mortan." the guard barked.

"Mortan? My last name is Morgan," I said. The guard raised an eyebrow.

"Not you." the guard said.

"Is it my dad?" Kyle called from his cot. Huh, I never realized how little I knew about Kyle. I didn't even know his last name!

"How am I supposed to know? Just come out here." the guard sneered. Kyle reluctantly got up and followed the guard.

How come I never get visitors? I got one, my mom, last week.

***Flashback***

"Mommy, take me home." I cried.

"Jacob, you know very well you got yourself in here. If you promise me to be well-behaved and cut the violent acts, I'll plead to take you home.. So, what do you say?"

"My name... is Jake." I said, getting up. I told the guard to take me back to my cell.

***Flashback end***

Kyle came back to our cell grinning about half and hour later.

"Why so smiley?" I asked.

"I'm getting out soon!" he said, collapsing on the bed.

"How much longer?"

"I get my trial in five days. My dad found the money," he said, hugging me. I couldn't move... or breathe.

"Oh, Jake, loosen up. I'm sorry for being a creeper in the beginning. Hug me back," Kyle said. I giggled and wrapped my arms around him.

"Remember my promise, when I get out, too, I'm calling you up." I giggled. Kyle chuckled and fist-pounded me.

"A fist pound, really?" I said, raising an eyebrow, "Could you be more straight?"

"Hey, you like girls more than guys, remember? You shouldn't be talking." Kyle said, "When do you get out?"

"10 days." I said, smiling.

"I hope you don't find your back in here. I don't think you will." he said.

"I can say the same for you." I chuckled.

"..I don't wannna break up this cheesy love-speech, kids, but dinner's here." the guard announced.

Ten more days.