The 16th Avenue

The moon shined brightly and it was the only one that gave me safety with its white light under the dark of the night. I was walking along a narrow road until I reached the station where I waited for the bus to take me to the Colorado State Prison.
I boarded the bus and the rhythm of my heart began to race and unconsciously, I started to bite the edge of my fingertips hidden by the gloves I was wearing. I was a fresh graduated psychologist and I was going to attend my first case ever... in a prison. I opened my bag with difficulty because my hands were shaking as I was losing total control of my body. "Breathe Mila" I managed to whisper to myself taking small breaths to control me. Finally I could open the folder where I contained the file of my new patient.
"Maxerich Cavannagh - multi millionaire - guilty of murder." I read with a firm voice as my eyes widened in surprise. A murderer? Oh God... "Single - 30 years - two years in prison - trial in process - declaration yet to be determined - sentence yet to be determined." I continued, still in process? Mmm... his sentence has not been declared yet. My mind began to fly trying to find answers to the few clues I read, determined, I tried to find an answer by reading more of the record but the more I uncovered the less I knew.
The bus halted abruptly and my legs did not respond to my urge to stand up and walk. Compelling myself to take a step and then another, I was able of getting out of that bus in one piece. While I left my ID at the entrance and the reason that brought me there, one quick thought came to my mind: why his attorney would want a psychologist to make an evaluation of a murderer instead of a psychiatrist? Yes, I specialized in outnormal behaviors in society... but murder? Of course the catch was very hard to ignore: a fresh graduate with a specialized branch. Easy piecy lemmon squizzy.
I came back from my thoughts when I watched myself entering into a room with a table and two chairs, a very sloppy room. I tried to concentrate and remembered one of my own personal decretes: "Always find the good in people." And by that I wasn't being professional at all...

My back was in direction to the door, I pressed my paperwork to my chest and closed my eyes trying to find concentration when someone lashed the door, I jumped dropping accidentally all my paperwork. Immediately, I bent down to gather it up, I looked at my trembling hands while trying to grab the papers but a third hand came swiftly collecting them. Soon he got up and I still was kneeling, facing the astounding and handsome creature I had in front of me: tall, incredibly gray eye waning, the finest nose I've ever seen. He had a square chin and a deep, sexy and serene look but mixed with a big secret. The stranger smiled at me and extended his free hand towards me. I grabbed his hand and helped me get up. "Please," he said, and pulled my chair to the back for me to sit. I sat breathless, shocked by the fine gentleman I had in front, completely forgetting that I was in a prison, not in a 5 stars restaurant on a blind date.
"Maxerich Cavannagh, a pleasure." he said, smiling. Oh my... His smile was even more perfect than a waning moon.
"Mila Knightley and I am..." but I was interrupted by his sexy but sweet voice.
"Mila... Gorgeous name."
He moved closer to the table without taking off his gray eyes of my hazel eyes that pursued his making me move forward instinctively.
"I was told I was meeting with a psychologist today, I assume you are the one. But I dislike very much calling you by your profession, may I call you "Ms. Knightley?" He asked gently.
I tried to not analyze every single word that he just said, he was taking control of the situation I needed to take it back immediately. I smiled and looked at him: "Surely Mr. Cavannagh."
Be professional Mila! Professional!
"Just call me Maxerich, Ms. Knightley." He said correcting me with a gleam on his eyes.
"Just call me Mila, Maxerich." I shot back.
One eyebrow lifted in his face, he could feel I wasn't that easy, even when I have broken the entire professional relationship between patient and psychologist. One day out of college and I fail with one of the most important things to respect of my degree.

The night in a "5 stars" prison was going great...
The so-called "therapies" or in my own term "dates" were daily. Everyday desperation flooded me because I needed to see and listen to him. Something inside me changed whenever he was with me, I felt so alive and full of energy, as if I could beat the world with him, only him. True signs of a person who knows very well how to play people's minds. The truth hit me like an ocean wave that breaks on the shore: I was falling for him. The cruel truth did not hurt, not yet. Only someone very stupid or very brilliant sends an amateur psychologist to make a declaration of the analysis done from this man in front of a jury. Smart or pretty dumb?
I arrived earlier than the usual, but his face was serious and grim, he could even carry a huge shadow on his back. I raised an eyebrow and tried to stay still, to hide my surprise by seeing him so... down.
"I never imagined you as a person who arrives late, Mila."
I smiled playfully.
"Changing the routine sometimes doesn't harm."
He raised his eyes at me and gave me a painful smile.
"It harmed someone, at least." Maxerich replied, slipping his handcuffed wrists through the table.
My smile faded away, his words stung me right on the chest. My heart beating wildly while my brain was laughing at his attempt. I remained emotionless, watching his fingers making a rhythm so fast his anxiety was clearer than water. He moved on his chair to get closer to me.
"Watch it." The guard behind him said out loud, Maxerich started shaking as soon as the guard spoke.
"It's fine, thank you." I said in response, the guard only lowed his chin, feeling like a hero for putting in his place someone like Maxerich. He disgusted me, I was fully aware of the manipulation of my patient and I didn't need a safe net. "Actually, you can leave." I added in a serious tone.
The guard looked at me confused as Maxerich lifted his chin and smiled at the guard. He growled under his breath, crossed the room and closed the door snapping it behind him. I was ready, something inside me telling me he would finally tell me the truth.
"Tell me..." I asked. His eyes hooked on mine begging something I could not read even as intensely as I was trying to.
"What have you done to me, Mila?" He asked coldly, confussion crossing my face. I gave in, my back relaxed and leaned forward resting my head in the palm of my hand. "Two years spent here, without one drop of survival in this place and I all of the sudden want to survive thanks to you." He said as he reached my hand with his hand. Only for you... His words echoed in my mind and an uncomfortable silence filled the room for the first time creating an atmosphere of tension between us instead of the usual spark.
"I do not want the truth push you away from me." He said with a pleading tone in his voice; and in his eyes I saw desperation for not... not letting me go.
I longed him, I wanted him... I liked him; but not if he wasn ́t going to tell the truth. The fact that he was a called unofficially "murderer" did not matter to me; the reason itself was what I wanted to know. I took his hand and stroked his cheek with a shaking hand, he leaned his face against my hand and closed his eyes taking a deep breath.
"If coming to prison doesn ́t push me away from you, what else you think it can?" I assured him with a smile.
"Is that a promise Miss. Knightley?" He asked. "Promised, Mr. Cavannagh" I sighed.
He looked at my eyes and shoved with strength the table leaving a space between us and as soon as he crossed that space I got up from the chair. He took me by surprise holding my waist with his hands all tangled pulling me from my pants' pocket and brushed his lips against mine sweetly. I lost myself.
"What was that noise?!" The guard shouted banging on the door. I moved away from Maxerich and trying to catch my breath I answered with the clearest voice I could throw: "Everything ́s fine, thank you."
His hands still pulling me from my pocket resting his fine nose against mine. His eyes and mine connected by a strong unwavering energy.
"The 16th Avenue..." He said with a broken voice trying to force him to continue his story. "It all happened in the 16th Avenue. I was discussing with one of my business partners who lived in one of the buildings there. I had discovered the embezzlement in a bank account and tried to reason with him before filing a claim, he was an old friend, or he feigned to be a friend." He pulled me towards him and I pressed my body hard against him as a gesture of support. "It's all a misunderstanding. He took out a gun and pointed in my direction. Trying to hide my panic, I tried to reason with him." His voice was becoming weaker. "I realized he was crazy, I rushed to him trying to change the direction of his hand but pointed to him who pulled the trigger at the same time. Authorities immediately labeled me as his murderer in the absence of witnesses because no one saw what happened." His eyes reflected a calmness transmitting me his peace. Incredibly, I did not feel scared, only sad for what he had to live unfairly. "Mila, I did not kill him, it was in self- defense. He tried to kill me." I kissed his lips tenderly and stroked his hair. "I believe you." I whispered and hugged him in a desperate attempt to not let him go. An alarm rang breaking our embrace. "Tomorrow my sentence will be dictated." He whispered. "And I'll be there by your side." I assured him. He kissed me one last time but I felt like it was the first time, his lips warm and soft that left a bittersweet taste. He looked at me with his gray eyes and a tear escaped from my eyes. He wiped it with gentleness and kissed my forehead assuring me that everything would be fine. "There's more..." he said when the guard entered abruptly and took him with force.
"What the fuck, man?!" Maxerich yelled.
I gasped to my inside, the alarm ringing in every corner.
"Miss, you have to stay in this room. Other prisoners started a fight, I have to take your patient to his cell."
In the blink of an eye he took Maxerich away from me, some other guards escorted me quickly outside leaving alone in the dark road all unsettled.

I got off the bus with a radiant hope just like the sun combined with a sadness that left a burning pain in my chest that was just unbearable. Something was missing, I felt so light, just an hour ago he was pulling my pants' pocket with si much strength and now I was so light gravity was trying to claim me stubbornly.
For the first time I noticed the narrow avenue I walked by daily to get to the bus station, it was 16th Avenue. I stopped and admired the sign announcing the number of the avenue smiling, thinking in the most professional words to say in my report. I felt an inner peace with a touch of happiness, a cold breeze rushed through my body and instantly put my hands in my pockets. A cold metal touched my fingertips in the pocket where Maxerich pulled me from... I found a key with an adress written on it. I looked down the street, the dim lights of the light poles didn't light enough for me to see the address. I knew that was not going to be the last time I would step there, the strangest thing: I felt grateful with that avenue. I could only read one thing with such light, "Building D, 16th Avenue Place."