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ELIJAH

When he was younger, Elijah always imagined putting his father behind bars. He imagined that he would visit his father only once, just to rub it in his face that he had finally put him away for good, and that he wouldn't be able to hurt him or his little brothers anymore.

Of course, then Elijah grew up quickly and realized that wasn't going to happen.

He never imagined, however, that he would end up behind bars, that he would be the one on the other side of the table sitting in an orange jumpsuit.

Every morning, he woke up at exactly six o'clock to the sound of the alarm clock blaring through the prison speakers. At exactly seven o'clock, there was breakfast, and by seven-thirty, they all had to be at work until twelve-thirty. Then there was lunch, outside time, work again, and lights out at exactly nine o'clock.

Elijah worked in the kitchen. That meant scrubbing pots and pans, cleaning the appliances, mopping up in the canteen, and running any extra errand that someone around that area needed. He worked with a few other men in the kitchen, but they barely spoke to him. He was the new guy, and they were wary.

The day after Logan came to see him alone and had to be hauled away, hollering at the top of his lungs, Elijah woke up earlier than the alarm bell and sat in his bed, unable to go back to sleep. For days, he had kept his head down and tried to gather information by observing, but he quickly realized after Logan's visit that he didn't have the luxury to be wasting his time.

He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible, meaning he had to finish the job as fast as possible too.

So when lunchtime rolled around, Elijah turned to the guy next to him, a man named Ellsworth who was nearing sixty but still had half a foot and nearly fifty pounds on him. Despite his huge stature, Elijah had come to find that there was nothing scary about him.

"Ellsworth," he said.

Ellsworth sighed and scratched his nose. "Yeah, what is it, newbie?"

Ellsworth was the only one of them who didn't call Elijah fish, instead just resorting to calling him newbie, and that was why Elijah felt that it was safer to ask him the questions he needed answered.

"I'm looking for someone," Elijah said.

"You lookin' to get into a fight already?"

"No, no, I -" Elijah fumbled for an excuse. "I heard he's the guy to talk to if I need something."

"Gimme a name and I'll be the judge of that."

Elijah lowered his voice to below a whisper. "I'm looking for Jimmy Peters."

Ellsworth's eyebrows shot up his forehead. "Boy, who told you that? You want to die today?"

Elijah grimaced. His heartbeat sped up rapidly at the knowledge that there was no way out of this one. "Is he really that bad?" he asked.

"That old bastard can't walk up the steps without havin' a heart attack, but those boys of his are strapped."

"Strapped?"

Ellsworth shook his head at his ignorance. "Armed. They've got weapons."

Elijah could never get used to the slang the men around him used. It seemed like everyday he learned about fifty new words, but it was never enough to keep up.

"How can they have weapons?"

"They've got shivs up their pants. Don't go near 'em, most of 'em are in here for a few hot ones, not just one."

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