One Foot In The Grave - Part One

“Monday, Wednesday and Friday, inmates are allowed to make one three minute phone call under supervision of a guard.” The man who had earlier introduced himself as Paul Harling told me as he gave me the grand tour of the building. Yeah, grand tour… there really wasn’t much to it; I still don’t see what was so grand about it. But I kept my mouth shut and nodded whenever it was called for. I ran my fingertips over the stitches on my knuckle absently, not bothering to ask any questions or anything. I was stuck here for the next year, it’s not like questions would really do anything. “If you have any complaints about the structure of the day, you may speak with your supervisor and he or she will give you a complaint form to fill out and schedule a time for discussion about the aforementioned grievances." 1

“Yeah, great” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Already I was getting antsy; I wanted to shove Mr. Paul Harling to the side, break through the doors, track down the closest dealer I could find and smoke myself brain dead. Sure, I’d gone through withdrawal during my trial, but this place really made me feel like I was starting to go through it again. My nervous system starting working on overdrive, pumping adrenaline through my body, synapses firing off from nowhere to nowhere, my chest felt tight, limbs tingled, insects crawled along my skin and I just wanted to lock myself up in a dark closet and scratch them all away. It was hard not to groan. 2

The daily routine went through my head rapidly; waking up at five AM, going to bed at nine, classes, therapy, eating regular meals…3

Shit.4

This place is going to kill me.5

I was taken into my pod, shown where my bed was and left alone to get my stuff around, but not after showing me how the beds MUST be made every morning. How insane is that? They’ve got their own little method of making a bed. They had already searched me and taken away anything that could have potentially harmed myself or anyone else, and that didn’t really leave me with much. They wouldn’t even let me keep my fucking hoodie because ‘violent inmates, if provoked, could grab the hood and try to choke you by pulling on it.’6

I don’t really think they fully understood that I WAS a violent inmate. Whether I was geeked out on meth or not has nothing to do with it. As I got all of my things around, I silently cursed myself for even getting into the shit in the first place. They say that all drugs change you – make you into something completely different than what you used to be – other drugs never really affected me the way Annie did. It’s weird. I mean, I was never really the violent type of kid before I got into it, and then I just… I dunno, changed. That guy that I got in a fight with, if it hadn’t been for meth, I never would have even considered it. But because I was high, and he just had to keep pushing, I lost control.7

And now I have to pay for it.8

Shortly after I finished unpacking, someone came in to show me how the beds were made and then I was dragged off to therapy and seated next to a guy who was a good deal shorter than me. His face was pale and angular, contrasted amazingly by his dark, mouse brown hair, which hung limp in his face. He looked like he wanted to be left alone, so I didn’t bother saying hi. 9

“Everybody,” The woman up front said, calling the room to attention. “This is Jake Van Tassel; he’s new here at the center, so why don’t we just take a minute to go around and introduce ourselves to him. Jake, I’m Deanna Brewer, I lead the majority of the group sessions here, which is where we-“10

“I know what group is.” I said quietly, scratching the back of my neck.11

She stiffened slightly, obviously irritated at my interruption, but nodded as if trying to remain passive. “Okay then, I suppose we can just get straight to the introductions then. Tegan, would you like to start us off?”12

My eyes slid to the form next to her; a scrawny girl, who looked to be barely five feet tall fixed her gaze on me. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, making her shoulders stick out even more from underneath the flimsy fabric of the long sleeved t-shirt she was wearing. “I’m Tegan McFarland.” She said, blowing her uneven, dark auburn bangs out of her eyes. “And I’m here because I have daddy issues.”13

I almost laughed at that. Her face was so blank and impassive, voice so entirely empty of emotion that those words strung together, once I’d actually comprehended them, seemed so funny that I had to literally bite my tongue to keep from snickering. The girl beside her gave a soft snort and Tegan received a look from Deanna, to which she grinned broadly and crossed her legs. “Next.” She said simply.14

“Maegan,” the woman said, almost tightly.15

The girl named Maegan sighed, her two tone hair falling into her face, much like Tegan’s had. “I’m Maegan, I’m a pyro.”16

“Conor,” The guy beside me grunted and didn’t say anything more. For a second, I expected him to tell me why he was there, but instead he just closed his mouth and shook his hair out of his face. I saw the only three girls in the room - save for Deanna Brewer, as well as a few of the guys, tense up ever so slightly when he spoke, relaxing when the attention averted from him.17

Everyone in the room introduced themselves, their tones almost as bland as Tegan’s had been, but it didn’t have the nearly forced edge that her voice had. Sitting back in my chair, I stretched my legs out, crossed my arms and slumped down. She chattered on, and then went around the room making everyone express their feelings in “four words or more”. Most of the answers she received were monosyllabic. 18

The bell rang and we left. I followed the others to a classroom and sat down in the back, my attention immediately focusing out the window at the yard. Mr. Paul Harling had told me we were only allowed outside about an hour or so a day, more if we’re well behaved and less or not at all if we fuck up. Our teacher hadn’t arrived in the room yet, so there was just a guard in there to supervise us in case we got too rowdy. I glanced over at Tegan, who sat a few seats down from me.19

“How long have you been here?” I asked her.20

She jumped at the sudden acknowledgment and looked over at me, raising her eyebrows before furrowing them in thought. A loud breath escaped her lips and she sat back, obviously taking a great deal of thought to come up with her answer. “Two years, I think?” She glanced over at the girl named Maegan beside her, “That sound right?”21

Maegan nodded, “Yeah, I think.”22

I whistled, “That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”23

A slow grin spread across her face, light violet eyes glinting with mischief. “I don’t know… do you think three and a half years incarceration in a juvenile corrections facility is harsh after shooting your father in the chest three times?” A loud sigh escaped her lips and she looked up at the ceiling, “Unfortunately, he lived.”24

Okay, I’ll admit, that shocked me. When she said “daddy issues” I was thinking something along the lines of maybe she threw a punch at him or something, not actually tried to MURDER her dad. And from the way she spoke, she was smart. Smart kids usually didn’t pull shit like that, did they? I mean, you’d have to be pretty stupid to pick up a gun and fire it three times into your dad’s chest. Either that or just ape shit crazy.25

“I snapped,” She went on, raising her eyebrows at me. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly at my expression. “He got in the way, I lost control and got sent here. The end.” 26

Maegan glanced over at me and snorted, breaking off into laughter. I don’t know what kind of face I had on, but apparently it was funny. “Don’t worry,” She said simply. “There aren’t any firearms around here. See, there’s a rule about guns being in here… the most they can do is pin us and put a straight jacket on if we get out of control. She won’t be able to shoot you. Security is too high.”27

“So what pod are you in?” Tegan asked, lowering her voice as the teacher walked in, her eyes staying forward, aimed straight at the bored. I could tell that she was getting some sort of joy out of screwing around and generally creeping me out. I didn’t pay any attention to it. At that point, I was pretty used to people seeing just how far they could push me, and seeing as how I wasn’t all geeked out on Annie and totally out of my mind, surrounded by guards who could easily detain me if I started shit, it would take her a while to get me to snap should that be what she desired.28

“Uh, pod C.” I said, leaning back.29

Tegan nodded slowly, tapping her pen against her notebook. She balled up one hand, propped her elbow on the desk and rested her chin on her fist. “What room?”30

“Why do you care?”31

Without missing a beat, she said: “Because… you really have to fuck up to land in C. That’s basically the same pod Maegan and I are in, only we’re in the one for girls.” She flashed me a brief smile and glanced back at the front of the room. “So who did you get stuck with?”32

I shrugged, “I’m in room 201. I haven’t met my roommate yet.”33

Maegan snorted, “Ouch… good luck man.”34

“Why?”35

The girls exchanged long glances for a while and I raised my eyebrows. When the teacher up front turned his back to us, facing the board, they both looked over at me, faces completely serious for the first time since the class had started and said “You’ll see.”