Murder The Moment [BoyXBoy]

.:4:.

I stared at the nearly-complete drawing, from yesterday night, my hands shaking slightly as they held the notebook. My mind went back to a few years ago. Drawing had always been a hobby of mine and, to be honest, I was pretty good. Even good enough to earn an art scholarship, so that I could 'further my education and explore my talent as an artistic prodigy' - as the teachers at my high school said.

This only lasted for a couple of years though, until I got kicked out for being in the wrong place at the wrong time when a fight started between two drunk idiots, who I didn't even know. Why was it that I was always innocent, yet I got blamed?

The drawing, which lay on my palms, scrunched up with fold marks, was of my fondest memory: when my mother met Copeland for the first time in person. It was three months after my daughter was born and Cope and I had to fly all the way from California to Michigan. Katelynne was too busy with work, so it was just the two of us. I got to spend a week with my wonderful mother and gorgeous daughter in a place which held so many memories.

I remember it so vividly; my favourite moment. It was simple, but so perfect at the same time. I was softly pushing a giggling Copeland on my old swing set, with mum sitting on the wooden bench outside of her house, sipping coffee. We were both talking and enjoying the sunshine and, even though it was such a little thing, I felt like my life had never been better than that.

With a sigh I crumpled up the piece of paper, then grabbed both sides and tore it in half. It was a waste of time. That was in the past, the present was what mattered, even if the present was full of misery.

I heard the usual breakfast call from outside of my cell and contemplated ignoring it, just because I didn't want to face everyone - god knows what they might do to me - but decided against it, as I was hungry and the next meal was in the evening which was hours away.

The electronic lock on my door clicked open, enabling the handle to move, but I ignored it for now. The best thing to do was probably to wait until the end of the breakfast period, then head straight back to my cell.

Each jail 'group' had 45 minutes for breakfast. I stayed in my cell until the time reached 07:40, five minutes before the next round of prisoners was due, before sulking out of the safety and comfort which that thick iron door provided, as it stood between me and the rest of the world. It took me about two of those five minutes to reach the cafeteria and, as I did, most people were already gone, to my pleasure.

I grabbed a single slice of dry toast, as that was the only thing that was left, and sat myself down at an empty table in the far corner of the room. No one as much as gave me a second glance, even though there weren't many men left, but that was enough to make me believe that they didn't care.

I was being stupid before; lots of others here had done things like me, if not worse, so why would I be treated any differently (even though, of course, I was innocent)? It must have been my anxiety plaguing my thoughts and making me have irrational expectations. It was all going to be fine, nothing would be different. Well, except one thing.

I had lost my only friend. He was repulsed by me and I knew that he wouldn't believe a word if I tried to reason with him. Other than Ashley, the only people who talked to me were Gerard and his friend, Frank. Gerard was doing it out of pity and Frank did everything Gerard did, but they weren't my friends. They were just people who were on good terms with me, and who I exchanged 'hi's and 'hello's with.

Without Ash I didn't have his gang's protection anymore, but I couldn't do much about that. I would have to take what came my way and live through it, with a smile on my face.

As tough as I wanted to act, I knew that I couldn't make it on my own in this place and, if I had no better choice, I would even go as far as to beg Ashley to take me back, as pathetic as that sounded.