“Okay. Okay. You want to make a statement. Prove your point with this chick. I get that. So here’s what you do. Get outside right now. Pick one of them pretty red roses off the bush in the neighbor’s yard. Don’t let them see you though. Damn, old Mrs. K will smack you with her cane right across the ass. Put that in a baggie and then write Lindsey a love letter. Send that shit right to her house and wait. Then all you can do is wait.”
“I don’t want to wait,” I said, knowing I was sounding like a little baby instead of a teenager. “I want to fucking be with her, Tito.”
Tito grabbed me by the shoulders. “I get that, brother. I’m sorry. I wish I could say more. But sometimes you just have to wait.”
His girl started to stir. As she started to lift up, I saw the side of her right breast.
Holy shit… holy shit… holy shit…
“Not yet,” Tito said. He grabbed my jaw and made me look at him. “You really like this chick, then you focus on her. But don’t be afraid to let time do its thing. Okay? You never know where this long and winding road is headed. Don’t try to control it so much, you’ll just wear yourself out doing so.”
I nodded. “Thanks, Tito.”
“No worries, my man. Now get out so I can find out if I like this girl or not.”
I left the bedroom, knowing exactly what was going to be happening in the bedroom. I went outside and did exactly what Tito said to do.
I was going to make sure my love for Lindsey could survive a little summer separation.
But as far as the long and winding road of life went?
It was all fucked up.
Why?
Before Tito saw thirty, he’d be dead… and before I saw thirty, I’d be in prison for murder.
2
(King) *NOW*
THE DARKNESS, it completes me. On my back, the ceiling coming down on me. The mattress feels like concrete, the concrete feels like quicksand. But I can’t stand. No matter how hard I try to jump, I can’t fall. I feel invincible at the end of the world. Yet it’s coming. I can smell it in the air. The stale, damp hallways. The smell of metal and water. The echoing sounds of the cells slamming shut. Lonely cries, a haggard laugh. The footsteps as they get closer. Are they coming for me? Is today the big day? What happens next?
I shut the notebook and tossed it to the floor.
I stood up from the weight bench and jumped, grabbing the pull-up bar. I ripped out thirty without even trying. Sometimes I wondered what the fuck I was trying to achieve. Working out while on death row seemed a little dumb, didn’t it? But I learned a long time ago that if you didn’t fight you were already dead. I could take a deep breath. I could exhale. I could grab a fistful of my cock and jerk it hard, splash my cum all over the floor. That meant I was alive. Right up until they finally decided to kill me.
I got notice from the Reap that there was one last plea thrown at a judge to see if I could get put away for life.
I didn’t care.
I knew my fate. I knew what I had done. I knew what I had given up. Shit, I knew what I lost.
After completing another thirty pull-ups, I sat back down. Sweat leaked from my pores, collecting to my dirty t-shirt. They took care of me sometimes. I kept quiet, took care of the guards who took care of me, and I found a way to meek out something like survival.
I heard a banging thud on the door and it opened.
In walked my favorite fucking guard of all time.
“Johnny,” I said.
“Kingston,” he said. “You ready to fucking die today?”
“I’m always ready to die.”
Johnny stood there, his fat belly pressing against his shirt. He hated me. And he had good reason to do so. A couple months back he brought his beautiful daughter to work to show her the other side of life. She was in her late twenties and had aspirations to be a psychologist and help those in prison. I helped myself to her sweet pussy as we went at it really fucking rough in a room. I had months of shit pent up inside me and she took it all from me. It was a great afternoon.
But Johnny was really pissed about it.
Still.
“I’m in a good mood today,” Johnny said.
“That’s good. You get laid finally?”
Johnny snickered. “I’ll bury you right here.”
I stood up. “Then do it. Shoot me. Write your fake report. Whatever you need to do, Johnny. As far as I can tell I still have five minutes to myself in here.”
“You’re right and wrong,” Johnny said. “You still have a few minutes… but you’re not going to be alone. In fact, I’m in such a good mood, I’m going to give you a choice.”
“Of what?”
“How you want to die,” Johnny said.
Right on cue two men stepped up from behind Johnny. Then two more followed. They were big dudes. Basketball shoulders, arms that matched, the look of murder on their faces. They stood next to Johnny, arms hanging at their sides, ready to go.
“Fuck,” I said.
“Oh, I brought you a last meal,” Johnny said. He pulled out a baggie with a sandwich in it.
“Ham and cheese?” I asked.
“Here. Make your choice.”
Johnny threw the bag.
I caught it. I took the sandwich out. It was just two pieces of bread.
“Not much of a sandwich here,” I said.