Two for five, or hate meCecil is always in such a state when we bring him out of solitary. This prison has standards, yes. We believe isolation to be an effective means of correcting behaviour.Two for five, or hate me1 day ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I came to this prison at the age of twenty-one, expecting nothing. I was quickly promoted, because I didn't let anyone in here get to me. When we met, Cecil was five years into his sentence. He was a challenge.
I wanted to know everything about him. I knew there was only one way of doing so. We needed time alone.
"Let's have a little talk"
He looked at me, resisting.
"You're not in trouble"
He narrowed his eyes, hating me.
"I know what you did, Pariah"
"Of course! I've added two years to your sentence. For your own good"
Cecil stares at me, shocked.
"Yes, it was originally eight"
Behind my desk, I extend my hand.
"I don't . . . feel . . . very good," breathes Cecil, closing his eyes.
"Then, do you hate me?"
In a place like this
I have no choice but to love you
"Come closer, Jackson"
A Friend "Don't go."A Friend2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The words fall from my lips and hit the ground shattering into a thousand pieces. You stop reaching for the door, shoulders rolled forward and your head shaking. Turning back, your face shows no trace of emotions.
"I told you to-"
"Not fall in love...I know. I haven't....just don't go." Head cocked to the side; I can't tell if you are amused or confused by my statement. "You're my friend and I don't want to lose you." Friend. The word is rolling through your head, echoing through your ears, and permeating your mouth with its sickly sweet flavor. It isn't a word you are familiar with, except in theory. Hearing it slide past my chapped lips, wet from licking them in anticipation, the word friend throws you for a loop.
"You are asking me to stay because I am your friend?" The disbelief is evident in your tone which is both confused, condescending, and con