Status: Completed.
Misery.
003.
I stared at the bunk above mine. Lucky's bunk. We had just gotten back from lunch and it was now "chill time" which almost reminded me of nap time as if we were a bunch of toddlers.
I sighed heavily, rolling onto my side. I now faced the cracked concrete wall. The entire atmosphere smelled of dirt and stale cigarettes.
Out of boredom, I began picking at the black nail polish that still remained on my fingers.
I began to wonder how the hell I ended up here. It was a thought that ran through my mind twenty-four seven. I had only been in jail for eight days, five of which I spent puking and getting the drugs out of my system, yet the damn thought never left my brain. It was almost annoying. It was like I had a voice inside my head constantly reminding of how stupid I had been.
"Radke!"
I jumped. Slowly, I looked over my shoulders and saw a guard holding my cell phone threw the bars of my cell.
I crawled out of my bunk and reached a shaky hand out to grab it. "I get to keep it?"
He nodded. "You made a list of people that you would need to call when you first got here. Every other contact had been deleted. We collect them at night, and if we catch you calling someone that you aren't supposed to be contacting, there will be consequences."
I nodded my head quickly, flipping the phone open.
Dad. Jacey. My lawyer. And the record company.
Four contacts and everything else in the phone had been completely wiped out.
I fell back onto my bunk, staring at her name.
Jacey. My Jace.
I skimmed my thumb over the talk button, hesitating.
She hadn't wanted me to leave that night. As a matter of fact, she begged me not to go. But because I'm so damn stubborn, I had ignored her and went anyway.
Would she even answer? What if she never wanted to talk to me again?
No.
I tapped the green button.
With each ring, my heart pounded even faster, until it seemed that it was going nearly a million miles an hour. And in a span of five seconds, it broke into a million pieces when the sound of her electronic voice mail filled my ears.
I couldn't think straight. I just kept re-dialing her number over and over and over again until my fingers began to ache.
"Motherfucker!" I clenched my teeth, gripping the phone in a tight fist. "Pick up the phone!"
I sighed heavily, rolling onto my side. I now faced the cracked concrete wall. The entire atmosphere smelled of dirt and stale cigarettes.
Out of boredom, I began picking at the black nail polish that still remained on my fingers.
I began to wonder how the hell I ended up here. It was a thought that ran through my mind twenty-four seven. I had only been in jail for eight days, five of which I spent puking and getting the drugs out of my system, yet the damn thought never left my brain. It was almost annoying. It was like I had a voice inside my head constantly reminding of how stupid I had been.
"Radke!"
I jumped. Slowly, I looked over my shoulders and saw a guard holding my cell phone threw the bars of my cell.
I crawled out of my bunk and reached a shaky hand out to grab it. "I get to keep it?"
He nodded. "You made a list of people that you would need to call when you first got here. Every other contact had been deleted. We collect them at night, and if we catch you calling someone that you aren't supposed to be contacting, there will be consequences."
I nodded my head quickly, flipping the phone open.
Dad. Jacey. My lawyer. And the record company.
Four contacts and everything else in the phone had been completely wiped out.
I fell back onto my bunk, staring at her name.
Jacey. My Jace.
I skimmed my thumb over the talk button, hesitating.
She hadn't wanted me to leave that night. As a matter of fact, she begged me not to go. But because I'm so damn stubborn, I had ignored her and went anyway.
Would she even answer? What if she never wanted to talk to me again?
No.
I tapped the green button.
With each ring, my heart pounded even faster, until it seemed that it was going nearly a million miles an hour. And in a span of five seconds, it broke into a million pieces when the sound of her electronic voice mail filled my ears.
I couldn't think straight. I just kept re-dialing her number over and over and over again until my fingers began to ache.
"Motherfucker!" I clenched my teeth, gripping the phone in a tight fist. "Pick up the phone!"