After a shocking turn of events and revelations, twin sisters Cilia and Iris Hunter are now at odds. The wildness of Cilia and Allele's attempts at gaining money for Iris's sight, brought the heat down of the New York City police on them; forcing th...
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Allele felt like such an idiot. His finger was under his chin and the other hand on the steering wheel as he was on his way to Stormville, New York. He was going to the address that Tamika had given him; Green Haven Correctional Facility. He honestly didn't care about anything Tamika had told him that day. So he couldn't understand why he was halfway down there. He just didn't want to admit to himself that it'd been irking him; ever since she told him what she told him, along with giving him a physical address, he would constantly think about it. Soon he couldn't help himself and a few days later, here he was in his car.
No music was on, just the sounds of the raw wind whipping through the car as he sped on the highway. It wasn't that far a drive, two hours the most. In an hour and forty minutes though he had pulled up to the prison. Never having been to one, he didn't know where to park or where to drive. He pulled up to the prison gates and got instructions from the guards.
Once inside, he had to give up all his items, including his cellphone and wallet. He gave them the name Tamika had given him from the sticky note and was sent to the waiting area.
Allele felt everyone's eyes on him in the waiting room. He figured it was because people could tell he was new to this prison thing. It was either that or because he was the only Black person in the room. There were mostly Caucasians here, so he stood out among the sea of people.
Allele constantly played with his ring finger, wanting his damn wedding band back. He looked around, purposefully avoiding the stares of the other visitors. He didn't want to start any conversations with anyone. He was here to hopefully get answers that would put a rest to his twisted past so he could leave.
Anxiousness. Anxiety. Nervousness—he felt none of it, he was numb to it. There was no particular way he was feeling. Allele didn't even feel a little curiosity of what his alleged birth mother looked like. He didn't care if she was pretty, ugly, young, old, overweight or built like a fucking Marlboro. Fuck her and the reason she was here, it was not his concern. He wouldn't even be here if it wasn't bothering him so much.
A television played in the waiting room as someone's spoiled child screamed to the top of their lungs. He stayed quiet the whole time until his name was called. An old White guard with a thick white mustache and a bald head asked him for the name once more and Allele gave it, hoping it was the person Tamika had said. He nodded his head and motioned him over. Getting up, he followed the C.O to the visitation area.
The security's heavy boots were actually soft against the tiled floor, but the hundreds of keys smacked against his hip with every step he made. The first thing Allele noticed about the visitation room, was there was no glass separating the inmates from the visitors. Just big metal circular tables for them to sit at. Close contact. He had much rather the glass.
