Winston life is going perfect, until he makes one bad decision out of love and ends up in prison. In there, he meets the interesting and mysterious Monty, who seems to have an interest in him too, although he would never admit it. What is going to h...
One of the characters in this chapter is going to be guard Mackey. This is kinda what I picture him to look like:
Ops! Esta imagem não segue nossas diretrizes de conteúdo. Para continuar a publicação, tente removê-la ou carregar outra.
He's like this old pervy dude with a mustache (kinda like Pornstach from OITNB, for the ons who have watched it!)
Okay that's all. Have fun reading this next chapter! 😄
Byeeee, ______________________________
Chapter 3.
Winston POV
"No, please stop!"
I had no idea what time it currently was. Tonight, I believe, is one of the worst nights I ever had trying to fall asleep. I was just having a hard time with it. Not only because the matress I slept on was hard as a rock, but mostly because Scott kept yelling in his sleep. From what it sounded like, he was having a terrible nightmare. It made me feel really bad for him. Maybe he doesn't even know he has these kind of nightmares? Something must be scaring him so much for him to make this much noise in his sleep. At one point he was screaming so loud that I got out of bed to check up on him. He was sweating so much, some of it even dripping down his face. I was going to wake him up but then I remembered reading something about how you shouldn't wake up sleepwalkers, so then I figured it also applied for people with heavy nightmares.
So then I decided to let it go and just went back to bed, praying that I at least got a little bit of sleep this night. Turned out, I didn't. As soon as I finally had managed to doze off a little, the bright lights got switched on, combined with the loud prison sirens going off, meaning it was time for morning count.
I groaned as I sat up in bed, back feeling sore from having to sleep on something I wouldn't even call a mattress yet. I let my legs slide of the bed and slid into my white crocs, because there is no way my skin will EVER touch these dirty floors. I don't even want to think about all the nasty stuff that has happened on these dark concrete prison floors.
I looked over my shoulder and saw that Scott still wasn't moving a muscle. Seems like the boy had finally dozed of to sleep after all. He was out like a kite. If it was up to him he probably would've stayed in bed all day. But unfortunately that's not how prison works. He's told me himself, missing count means you're in big trouble, so I had to wake him up. I needed to protect my celly.
"Scott?", I asked softly, only to get a whiny groan in response. So I walked over to his still half asleep figure and gently tapped his shoulder. "Scott, you have to get up. Count starts in five minutes", I tried again and this time it seemed to work. "Fucking hell...", he mumbled as he finally sat up in his bed. I had to laugh a little at his bed-head. His hair was all over the place and he was frowning like a little kid. "I hate this shit. Couldn't they have done this an hour later or something? The day is long enough as it is in here!", he exclaimed annoyed. He trew off his thin blanket and jumped off his bed, making me cringe a little when his bare foot hit the floor full of bacteria's, but Scott didn't in the slightest bit seem to care about that.
