Cliquè Of The Prison

Idiøcy At It's Finest

Josh
The wind was tearing itself through my hair as I run. Run, run, run away.
The dreary landscape burns away and is replaced with something familiar. My childhood street in Ohio, the street lined with neat houses. I laughed in glee, happiness coursing through my veins, my backpack bouncing against me rhythmically. Another boy tagged behind me, his brown hair rumpling fluttering. My best friend, Tyler Joseph. Turning the corner at my house, I saw my mother appeared at the front door.

Me? A happy, carefree seven year old with big dreams.

I ran up to her and threw my arms around her body.
"MOM! I missed you so much!" I cried, hugging her tighter.

"My big boy, Josh, what've you been up to?" Her voice is alive with laughter.

"School was great! I went to the store!" I was bouncing up and down, jumping down to unzip my backpack. "Guess what I got you!"

Behind me, Tyler giggled.

My mom's face screwed up in confusion for a second, before smoothing out to a smile. "Josh..."

I unzipped my backpack and reached inside, bringing out a package. Inside was a tiny box scented soaps from BABW*. She'd been eyeing it every time we passed it.

She wasn't smiling anymore.
"You stole again."

My face fell. "I thought you would like them. It's sparkly and sweet." I looked down and shuffled my feet.

"That's the sixth thing you've stolen this week, Josh."

"I'm sorry mom. I couldn't help it."

I looked up again, and to my horror, tears were running down her face. Miserable tears.

"Mo-om?"

She fell to her knees, hands furiously scrubbing away tears. "WHY JOSH?" she screamed.

Fear swallowed my previous pride and happiness in a flash. I started to back away.

"One day, Josh. You'll be behind the bars for good."

"Mom! MOM!" I ran up to hug her, but my hands passed through thin air.

Her body was fading away, and so was the happy landscape of my childhood. And behind me, Tyler screamed as he was struck.

Back in the present, I leaned over the sink, my forehead pressed against the mirror.

"You were right, mom. I am here for good."

"Owwwww..."

|-\

"Well, Flag." A guard named Narcissa scowled. "You have done a job of idiocy this afternoon."

Flag merely glanced up from his desk, sorting inmate papers. Impatient, Narcissa moved quickly, stepping up to the desk and stabbing her finger on a paper.

"These are the creditentials of Josh Dun, Flag."

"Well? My men are tracking him down. Got the whole city hyped."

"Flag, you ignorant jerk." Narcissa snarled, clutching the paper with her hands. "Dun is in the infirmary. Got in another scuffle." She glanced up at Flag, who looked appalled.

"That's why he wasn't there? I ordered all inmates to GET IN THE YARd!!"

"A black eye and a nearly fractured wrist. Keeping an eye on him." Narcissa replied coolly, scanning the paper.

"How-what-"

"Release Urie from the Hole and recover all the statistics, lazy dog." Narcissa whipped her head around toward the door.

"I'll be watching."
"And I'll be killing."

Flag shoved himself from his desk, searching for the source of the voice. But all he saw was a- a-

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