Klein

8 years ago.

"You're roomed with inmate 287, I suggest you keep quiet, he's not the nicest smurf of the bunch." I ignored the guard looking over my surroundings. A grey stoned building of nothing but craze, filled with lunatics, heartbroken kids, and prison guards that could give less of a shit.

   I wasn't complaining though I got myself into this. The loud buzzer sounded off and I cringed at the obnoxious sound, the man shoving me forward I balled a fist, reflexively turning around about to land a good one in his nose. But he shut me down before I could, "Punch me you chump, and I'll have you pushing daisies in the middle of winter. Now be a good little bitch and keep walking, my best advice to you kid, keep it quiet, keep it low, keep to yourself, and you'll be out of here before ya know it."

     I didn't make a move. All I could see was the facial expressions of sadness, disappointment, and disgust marked on my parents faces. When I was cuffed up, and dragged out of the court room, "How much time you got in here anyway?" I finally snapped out of my mind, as I began walking, the prison guard's arm wrapped tightly around my thin one, pushing me along the empty hall.

       Watching the scenery of misery, I looked down, "A year." I mumbled lowly, 1 damn year I was sentenced to.

       Probably would've gotten more, had I tried to resist arrest, or leave the kid to die. Most likely would've did a few years here, and then be sent to the adult prison. Guess everything works out for a reason huh?

       My head was light, and my stomach grumbling of a hungry anger.  We're not eating shit, I reasoned with my gut, "What a fucked up way to waste your teen years, you could be out there having fun, living up the life but instead you wanted to be an idiot like most kids in here. It's sad how kids start to erase their precious lives at a young age. You've got all your life to live and here you are, in cuffs, spending a valuable year as a child locked up."

   We reached my cell, it was oddly large, the white lights shining on the fresh metal bars, a small figure laid flat out across a bottom bunk. Curly hair sprawled out against the perimeter of his pillow, it was 8 in the morning, guess he was still trying to catch some z's.

      Still not shutting his godforsaken mouth the prison guard continued, I rolled my eyes, as I remained staring at the place that I cursed myself to residing in. "All''s I've gots to say is," turning me around forcefully, he looked me over seductively, I raised my nose and my lips in repugnance. Unlocking my cuffs his eyes scanned me up, and down, and once again they did the same. "Was it worth it?"

      "Think about laying a hand on me you sick freaky little bitch, I will kill you, and then it will all be worth it. Mark that as a promise, not a threat. I always stick to my word."

    He gripped me up by the neck, shoving me hard into the cell. "You wanna try me boy?" Pulling out a switch blade from his pocket he opened it, pressing it into my cheek, he ran it down. "Ahh." Wincing from the stinging sensation I sucked it up. Rising a rough knee to his members below, he instantly stumbled back.

      "You little fucking-," Charging with the knife pointing for my chest, I balled a fist.

        "Peterson! What the hell are you doing? Get the inmate into his cell, and leave." Still holding the knife with much intent he glared at me, brown eyes of fury burned through my face like a fire torch to gold. Nostrils flared like a bull fresh out of a cage, ready for a hell filled ride with its daring victim.

    But he didn't scare me. He made me amused, because he wasn't nothing but a closet insecure gay man, that indulges in his sick fantasies by working in a juvenile detention center full of boys. Where he preys, and stalks, waiting for the right time to take advantage of the moment to steal the boys pride, innocence and manly hood. He was a pitiful being, that of which amused me, because now that I'm here his time was coming. And since he's the bull and I'm the motherfucking rider let the games begin.

         "I said Peterson, leave!" Puffing out a heavy breath, he twitched his lip, and lowered the weapon.

     "Alright fine. But you better keep a leash on this one, he stray away too far he gon wind up missing." Wiping the sweat from his upper lip, he spit at me. I tilted my head to the side in surprise.

        I could take insults, punches, kicks, all of the bad things under the sun, but one thing I never tolerated, was to be spit at. I squinted my eyes at the man, with his navy blue jumpsuit, and name badge. 'Clive Michael Peterson, guard, Daytona Beach Juvenile Detention Center.' 

       Observing his every move like a hawk, his sickly brown eyes flattened. He was intimidated, vengeful, and turned on. I wanted to lunge after him, throw him over the railing and choke him to his death with my own arm.

    His disrespect, as he is lower than me, infuriated me to my center.

      Leaving as he headed towards the ending of the hall, a buzzer went off the sound already getting on my nerves I shook my head and rolled my eyes. "What's your name kid?" A voice softened with sincerity asked, as he pulled out an alcohol swab and a bandage. Preparing to patch up my wound.

       I stared at him through the corner of my eye, he was different than the other man. He was genuine, and kind, he reminded me of my good friend Detective Mason. Always caring for the bad people, bad people like me that always get the chances, but never take them. Always doing things to disappoint, and hurt, infuriate, and enrage.

       I always let the ones that counted on me the most down. It's a habit. Too hard to break once you become so consumed, and taken over by it. Now turning my face so that he could get a better look he paused, and stared into my eyes. Ashamed I looked away, "You gona answer me? I mean you don't have to I could just call you inmate 301. Personally, it's preferably not something I would want to go by, but hey to each it's own." He continued to protest, with a voice of forced suggestion.

      The kind where people actually already have an expected answer that they're waiting for you to give, and when you don't they correct you pushing their wanted response to the question on you. While proceeding to falsely reassure you that it's your choice ultimately, but still in the end you wind up second guessing yourself. Still not responding I just looked at him.

      Dabbing the acidic, and burning liquid into my open skin, I contracted my jaw. "Sorry bout that." He quickly apologized, and began to dab much more slowly with precaution. "Peterson is a looney, I don't get why the man hasn't been fired yet, abusing the inmates the way he does." His voice genuinely concerned, he checked over his work. Seeing that he cleaned it well he heightened his thickly arched brows, as he began to open the band-aid.

     Adjusting it to the length of the cut, he put light pressure on it, making sure it didn't go anywhere. I kept my silence, as he balled the trash inside of his hands, and stared me over. "You seem like you're more of the quiet violent type." He started, his voice booming in the large building.

    Interested in what he meant by his comment, I provided my attention, but nonchalantly, I didn't want him to know that I cared about what he was saying about me. Catching my drift he pried his eyes through me, while he continued to speak. His voice filled through and through with intelligent intellectuality.

   "The ones that are silent, but have those over active vigilant minds. They seem to be the more intimidatingly evil types of people, the ones you'd least expect to be actually murderous." My eyes flickered to the sight of Daryl Brown's body, and how I enjoyed beating him to a figure of a non existence. I didn't exactly think that I was a murderous type, but maybe I was, I just didn't know what I was truly capable of yet. 

  My eyes broadened, as my mind soaked in all of his words. "Worst thing about a criminal... is when they're intelligent. A bad mix of chemistry when you combine a nefarious soul, and a nefarious clever mind."

      Finally looking towards the speaker, he was young. He was strongly built, but he was wise, and I was solely intrigued of his matter. "My name is Klein. Klein Masthers." He never strayed from my eye contact yet he pierced right through me with his aqua stained color sightly beads.

      Signaling his hand out, the cell door opened with a loud buzz. The kid that was sleeping didn't even flinch, I smiled slightly, but quickly I let it fade. "His name is Waylon Cartwright, he's the same age as you soon. He sticks to himself mostly, bunked by himself because he's usually roomed with 17 year olds turning 18. Pretty friendly if you ask me, shouldn't have any problems with him."

        Looking his way, he patted me on the back with reassurance "You really want to make sure you stay away from anything that could risk adding more time to your years here Klein, it isn't fun in an adult prison. Or any prison for that matter."

   Walking me inside, I felt a wash of a home sickness stab deep into the pit of my stomach. I missed my brother mostly, but my mother, my grandparents, Ronn and Reeko, I was all alone in this place. But I bit the bullet, tossing the extra clothes, and the given utilities onto the top bed, I climbed the steps.

    Smiling he backed away raising a hand, "Stay out of trouble Klein Masthers." He instructed, as he laughed a bit, "I'll see you around."

    Returning the wave, I watched glumly as the cell closed slowly.

"Welcome to hell you little fucker." A husky low voice called up to me. Shooting the kid a bird, I rolled my eyes.

         "Yeah thanks for the warm welcome Satan." I responded absentmindedly, lifting my legs up, and titling my head back on my arms. Looking at the ceiling I closed my tired eyes.

        It's only one year, how bad could it be?

    Present day

I stood motionless it was almost as if time held its peace just to sucker punch me in the gut. Glancing at my baby brother I took a breath, holding the phone in his hand I snatched it from MeKe. About the same age as me, he was a bit buffer always lifting weights, and eating about a dozen cows. He was the only Greek I knew, and was killer insane with a machete if things escalated to that point.

       Reluctantly awaiting me to answer he stood in my presence until I gave him the okay to leave. I took the time to walk away from my surroundings so that I may be alone. "What do you want?" I questioned, walking into the sheltered patio, eyeing the majestic scenery of dashing greens, and mind blowing blues.

His haunting voice festered like a disgusting infected wound, pulling out a seat I sat down. I figured he was only doing the same. "I think we ended things badly Klein. We've got one another misunderstood."

    That accent of his slithered off of his scheming tongue, as he hissed into the phone, like the evil snake he was.

      "The last time I saw you Vindango was when I shot you in the face. You've seemed to be becoming of a speedy recovery." Since our bittersweet departation from one another's friendship and loyalty. Every encounter with Vindango ended up with an intense shoot out and the death of someone we cared about.

         The little bitch earned that shot in the face for shooting Ronn in the stomach, mainly because it scared me and Sasha, more than it hurt Ronn.

       Sasha.... The fire burned into a ball inside of my chest as I fought the thought of her from my mind.

     "Ohh you got lucky Klein." Vindango expressed trying to reassure himself that I wasn't a skilled sharp shooter.

"I warned you I never miss."

           "You saw me off guard and you took advantage." He retorted angrily, probably sporting that annoying smile of his. I gagged.

    "You're just trying to make up excuses as to why you'll never be good enough. You've never been good enough to get Sasha, to gain momentum in the game, you'll never be better than me. And the knowledge of this upsets you."

       "Yes, yes. Because you Klein believe that you are some god. No no no, no god, pagan. There is only one God, only one son of God and his name is Jesus."

       "If you called to preach to me Vindango take your sinning ass back to church. That may be your only way to salvation, because I don't give second chances."

      "Now what makes you think that I need you to give me a second chance? Hmm? Because you're in hiding like the little boy you are? You've always tried to be someone you aren't, from the moment I met you Klein you were nothing but a little rich kid acting out for attention. Nothing happened to you, you weren't forced into this lifestyle you chose this. You signed the contract since that night, you know that night? Don't you remember? You, and that little brother of yours would've been rotting in jail if it weren't for me. I got you the best lawyers in the fucking state. Pulled multiple strings, to get you let off easy, all of the shit I've done for you and Dayton, and you repay me by stealing my love. Stealing my money, my territory, betraying me like I were nothing but a street stranger. You should've been dead Klein. I should've killed you, a way while back when Payo told me to. But no I listened to my heart, you are a brother to me boy, don't you know that? I welcomed you with open arms, protected you, and even when your child was born I treated her no different. Not once have I plotted against you, my loyalty was unwavering. You bite the hand that feeds you, always know you will get slapped in return. You have something I want, that once again you stole from me, and I want it back."

       I froze, Vindango's voice broke from under him like a flawed structure. Crumbling into dust as his heart broken remorse cursed him. He was a more sensitive man, betrayed, by himself for trusting me.

       "You're going to have to kill me Vindango. No chance in hell im giving this to you."  Pulling out the diamond  encrusted tiny globe, I rolled it around on my fingers.

       "You're a nut grabber Klein. You're always holding someone's nuts to get where you want to be. Ball grabbers always end up at the very bottom of this food chain, like you will soon be. Don't you think the same tricks get old, they're not impressive anymore." His once shaky voice now packed with bass, and anger.

        Ball grabbing was just Vindango's term for blackmailing, which he was very active in using. Like an addictive drug, afraid of the unbearable withdrawals.

         "Well you being a hypocritical weak son of a bitch is getting old too V.  Eli was smothered in his sleep.  A real man would've took a gun, woke him up with a kind hello and pulled the trigger. Don't sit there and bullshit me about nut grabbing, is it nut grabbing because no matter what you try I'll always have something over you?" Standing furiously, I softened my voice mockingly.

       "It infuriates you how far I've come hasn't it? That I got the girl, got the money, took over, and you're still just a kid, like how you were when we first met. You hate me because I take initiative, I put myself out in the ring of fire before I send anybody else. The difference between you and I Vindango is, I've never been afraid. And behind your guns, your mercenaries, big houses, expensive clothes, shoes, hoes. You're always going to be that boy I met in Juvy, the real you, not the you that you provided a great facade for in front of Eli and Sebastian. The emotionally wrecked, lost and confused Vindango. You've checked my vulnerabilities, I'll always check yours. You are the most terrified drug lord, so called gang leader I have ever crossed paths with. And with the amount of shit you talk, I sure hope when the dice start rolling, and the timer starts clocking down, you can back it up. I may be in hiding Vindango, but that's the best way to ambush your enemies. The best timing is the unexpected." 

      The call was silent. I in took a bit of air, awaiting Vindango's response.

            "You're going to regret every wrong thing you have done Klein, you are no god you are a verminous creature that will be splattered beneath me. The strongest man fights with his knuckles, his fists." I laughed into the phone, before adding on to the saying, that I had come to remember all too well when I was a kid.

          "His hands, his feet, a strong man can kill with his intelligence not a gun, or a sword. "

    "He will fight till his last breath, he will never forfeit."

     "Where Vindango?" I cut in with a voice of annoyance.

   "1:15 45 minutes from now, that abandoned grocery store across the street from the mall. It'd be best to finish this before it gets too out of hand Klein, I'd hate for any of our important friends and family to get caught in this crossfire. Do not be late, do not tell your men, do not bring your men, leave your guns, your knives, leave your phone, do not involve the police, or things will get much uglier than they already are now Klein. "

          Vindango had something planned, it was good to know that he's prepared, but his plan blended well with the one I had already thought out moments before.

        "I'll be there." Hanging up the phone I chucked it hard into the table before me, it's plastic bits shattering to multiple pieces. Not satisfied with its destruction, I found a new fix, pounding my fists into the metal chair beside me. I screamed, over and over again, calming myself before I drew the attention of Ronn and my brother, I sunk my teeth into the flesh of my bloody knuckles.

            He challenged me to a fight to death, a custom in the way we do things in our business. This wouldn't be the first time this has happened, and I've never lost, but neither has Vindango, was I scared? I wasn't, I had this planned, and I was going to make sure it went exactly how I thought of it. So I left the patio, met up with MeKe and Marko.

         This had to go perfectly.

 
8 years ago

   "It's lunchtime cmon." Waylon impatiently urged, his curly blonde hair flailing vivid and wildly. Sucking my teeth I groaned, "If you don't eat, you don't gain strength, you don't gain strength, you..." Waylon stopped in his tracks as we both watch a stretcher, accompanied with a body bag on top pass us by. Other Juvy mates were whispering, a comment I heard as a kid walked by with his friend.

       "He'll probably get 10 more years."

"Nah Vindango got connections. And besides the kid knows the rules, you step up you either hold your ground, or get put in the ground. The guards here don't care, they been betting on these fights since day one. Vindango's what? 16 now? He'll get maybe another year or two. Probably won't get nothing at all, his brother is pretty bad ass with the Feds and shit."

    Walking pass me and Waylon they shoveled through with a rough shove, knocking Waylon into me. "Watch where you're going you bitches." I shouted after them.

       Stopping in the center of the isle the two boys stomped their ways towards us. Waylon hitting my stomach, telling me to just let it go, but I pushed him to the side into the railing. They looked like a hamburger and a hotdog, one oddly fat and shaped hideously, and the other fat in between obese like the other, just red looking like he'd been out in the sun just boiling away.

    "What the fuck did you just say?"  The hotdog kid got in my face, his saliva hitting me above my upper lip, I kept my silence. I've been in here 4 months, no fights, no trouble, and I've been doing good. I was trying this time, and I mean very hard.

       Waylon was fear stricken, "Klein please I'm hungry can we just go? Fuck these Sesame Street looking rejects, it's pasta day man! You know like with the garlic bread...I can taste it now." Waylon always tried to stray my attention away from my anger and I always fall into his words, and skillful use of swaying. But something in me today just wasn't drawn to it, I guess because I've become accustomed to his out talking, it has now made me numb.

       Don't do it Klein. Don't do it. Let it go, I never let things go.

    I bit down on the bottom row of my teeth, digging them further into each other while I battled myself within. My mind was running mad circles in my head, telling me all of the fucked up things I could say, and that I could do to these little idiots. I felt their blood pollute the cleanliness of my hands, the oxygenated purple running red as it fell from their faces, their mouths. The dull, deathly expression of defeat marked on each of their ugly faces. I could see it all, I could feel it all, but I backed down.

         All I begged for in my heavy brain of mine, was for them to let me go in peace. I've never been so concerned of another's well being from me in my entire life. "I said next time just ask to get through, you hurt my friend over there." 

     He stared me down, pushing me again, I jumped at him. Fists balled I was about to throw a round into his mouth. But he put his hands in the air, "Look man I'm just messing with ya, no need to get all defensive, I haven't seen you around, anytime so I had to bother ya. I'm MeKe, that's my brother Marko. Come walk with us, we'll eat lunch together if that's okay with you?"
 
         He pointed his eye contact to a scared Waylon, yanking him up by the shirt I pulled him close. "You're fine Waylon. Cut it out." Shaking in my grasp I tightened my grip until he stopped. I didn't like when made himself look like he couldn't handle his own, and I believe I've told him this a numerous amount of times but he always does the same ol same ol.

         Bitch out, at the time of confrontation. I rolled my eyes.

     "Yeah, yeah sure. Just get me extra garlic bread okay? Make this uh little, mishap up. Everybody loves garlic bread right?... Right?" Looking his way I shook my head at him, and followed MeKe and Marko.

     "You almost killed them didn't you?" Waylon asked me with a voice of  trepidation.

Lying to him as we got closer to the lunch room I stopped him, leaning down to his small height he looked up to me with trusting eyes, and penitently I looked away. "I'm not a killer, I'm trying to stay out of trouble Waylon, and you've been helping me with that," Noticing a mark on his arm when I pushed him into the railing I lowered my eyes to the cement floor beneath us. "I'm sorry for that Waylon." Trying to change the subject I pried with a voice of repent, "I owe you my garlic bread okay?"

          "Damn right ya do. I bruise easily, like a banana."

         "Just stop talking Waylon." Laughing at his mimicking facial expression, I folded my arms and continued after him.

         I barely recognized myself these pass few months. I've been scared to mess up, I've been scared to curse myself in here for an eternity. I've been turning my back to confrontation, anything that could possibly bring someone else harm, and  damn me in return. I'm slowly weakening the driving force within me, I'm starting to become like everyone else, weak, spineless, faded in personality, and joy, I was blending in like a painted picture of watercolors.

    And it was killing me.

         
            Laying the tray on the table, Waylon attacked it savagely. Stabbing his fork violently into the bread, he stacked his bounty on his napkin. Swirling away he managed a mouthful of spaghetti, chewing loud and clear, I nudged him. "Cut it out Waylon." Putting up a thumb for confirmation he slowed down, MeKe and Marko laughing at the situation.

        "So what are your names?" MeKe initiated, I gave Waylon a side glance, and gave the pasta a shot, unfortunately I was hungry, and this was my only option. Keeping my peace, I held my eyes on my food, and my food only.

       "I'm Waylon." I didn't even have to look at him to know that his face was filled like a puffer fish, as he tried to chew and swallow all of his food obnoxiously. Pointing to me, as he cleared his water hole, he patted my back. "And that's Klein. He doesn't really like you. Or anyone really I'm not even sure if he likes me or not, I mean he could ya know,"

    Another dive into the noodles he plunged his findings deep into his mouth. Munching away he finally broke down enough food to talk again. Because that he did a lot of, and I didn't mind it he reminded me of Ronn. Just younger, scrawnier, and white. "He doesn't talk that much, some days he does, but for the most part he's just trying to adjust being here, from what I can observe he's home sick."

     I had the fork inches from my open mouth, blinking in opposition, I turned his direction. "You assume. That irritates me, did you hear me directly state that I'm homesick? Did I say that I liked you? Did I say that I didn't like you? I'm not here to make friends Waylon, I'm here to get the hell out. Not sit at a fucking table to gossip, like a bunch of bitches." Dropping the fork of the uneaten contents, I slid the tray away from me, raising myself from the bench I backed away.

      "Wait no Klein!" Waylon argued. Rolling my eyes, and grabbing my trash I swung around. Waylon mirroring my exact actions, and in unison our bodies collided with two others. The remaining lunch spilling on all four of us.

       The loud cafeteria, suddenly grew immensely quiet. Multiple gulps were heard, among the oh shit's, and ohh's.

        Waylon held his ground as they mentally killed him with their stern, angry eye contact. I didn't say anything, they were taller than us, more bulky in the gains department. Tattoos telling their whole life stories covered their life vessels.

   They looked exactly like the prisoners I watched in the movies, just a little more stupid looking.

          The one in front of me looked hungry, just not for food, and the other slammed his tray down and grabbed Waylon by both his shirt, and his curly locks, while he planted his face into the metal table dragging him down. Clearing the surface of the trays and trash, drinks and people's food, carelessly. Waylon was defenseless, MeKe and Marko frantically tried to find a way to help the poor kid. The sound of a fist colliding with skin, and bones fueled me, I wasn't going to let them just walk away.

    Somebody was going to get a resembled ass kicking to the one they were giving my bunk mate. But my attention was to the guy in front of me, his head looked too small for his ginormous body, sort of reminding me of a ninja turtle, just more uglier.

          I slid the rest of the food off of the tray, it landing on the small space between us. I waited for him to make a move, but his friend behind me, threw Waylon into him. Gliding down, with his face all bloodied and his eye beyond recognizable. I fought with myself on getting involved, I watched longer while he began kicking him. I could hear his small frail bones crack on impact. Crying, and begging for them to stop I thought of Dayton, and if this were him, either me or them would be dead at this exact moment.

           "Leave him alone." I tried once more to withhold myself from getting involved but the longer I fought my instincts the more angrier I was becoming. Lifting his leg for another kick, I blocked the force with my hand gripping his ankle, and with an elbow I strongly drove it deep into his ribs. Knocking him flat on his back, jumping back up he charged after me with a punch prepared, I ducked underneath the impact. "Argh!" He growled angrily, as he ran into the table. Turning towards me pissed he tackled me to the ground.

       Diving punches into my face, my head continually bashed into the cement floor. Now forcing his hands around my neck he started choking the life out of me. With all of his weight piled on top of my body, I kicked and I threw failed punches in his direction.

   My throat was closing under his strong pressure, the veins in my forehead, blowing up like balloons, preparing themselves to burst into blasting explosions of blood. The oxygen flow to my brain began to become a severed connection.

   My eyes seeing nothing but blackness, I had to move quickly.

     Fighting to lift my head, it collapsed, and trying once more it did the same. "Ahh!" With one full lift I head butted him, taking a hold of his bottom lip into my teeth I bit down as hard as I could rolling the flesh, as I sawed through.

    In result to the agonizing pain he was suffering through he let go of my neck. I was grateful to fully breathe again, but I didn't have time to plunge myself in exultation.

      The blood from his lip fell like a flood inside my mouth, as I drained him. Fed up with his screaming I felt around for the tray, and slashed it across his shaved head. Stumbling backwards, my adrenaline pumped through me exceedingly.

       Holding on to his head, he lunged after me, his clobbering feet shaking the ground as he ran towards me. Getting close, I balled a fist,  feeding it into his stone hard stomach I cringed. But moving fast, I grabbed him, successfully I had his head locked tightly in my arm, squeezing with all of my might he fought against me. The one that tossed Waylon, started towards me, and following him was a schmuck load of their gang.

    "Back the fuck up!" MeKe stepped up, I glared at him confused of what he was doing exactly it had nothing to do with him or his brother. Keeping a close eye on him, Marko, Waylon, and our Spanish opponents. The whole ending of the confrontation flashed before my mind.

  And with every scene it ended the same, with me getting my ass kicked, and me beating the living hell out of them. My brother, Ronn, and Reeko poked at my dark heart. And I let my head down, "I'm sorry." I admitted to them, and more to myself, I wasn't going to allow to be made a wuss in front of this criminal multitude.

    There wasn't much of us, but I wasn't intimidated and besides Waylon neither were Marko and MeKe.  Finally he stopped fighting and clocked out. Letting him go I kicked his unconscious body to the side, and Marko picked up Waylon, letting him rest on his shoulders.

         Taking my place with them, a crowd formed around us,"Fight Fight Fight Fight Fight Fight! Kick his ass Eli kick his ass!" Eli, so that's what his name was?

          Breaking through the midst of the crowds, he waltzed in, big heavy arms swaying with his walk his head was held high confidently. I quickly looked around for the prison guards on duty, but the only authority figure was the lunch women.

      And with the fright etched into their eyes, they weren't going to do or say much. From the looks of it, Eli had his claws sunk down deep in every figure that could possibly disrupt his reign. This was the first time I've ever been to the lunch room during lunch, so the atmosphere, the people everything was spinning around me in brand new.

     I've stayed out of trouble because I've been isolated, staying in my cell mostly making conversation with Waylon. And bringing me snacks and water he kept me nourished, everyday he'd beg me to come out for fresh air but I typically declined. Because I stuck to my word for all of that time for one reason; some stupid shit like this would happen, as soon as I stepped foot somewhere else rather than my temporary home.

      This really was going to get ugly. And pretty fast. I rolled my eyes, clenched my palm together and maintained a prepared stance.

He reached my central sight, and with a mug, I could barely understand him under his accent, and raged voice. He looked around the room, and his eyes landed on the joe I put down for a while. "You did this?"

     He was pissed off I could see it in his hazel eyes, but in disposition he smiled, and laughed. And I just gave him a deadly glare. "I did." 

    "Now why would you hurt my little brother that way?" Crossing his beastly arms over his chest, he looked around the crowd, studying more on the entrances, for any sign of guards. Daringly challenging me with his stare I remained unbothered.

        "Your ninja turtle not so little brother was fucking with my roommate, came at me so I put him down like the dog he is. Now if you all have a problem with that take it up with me. If you know you can't control your pet why let him off the leash?"

         Shoving me in the chest, one of his bitches, were shooed away by another. This one was eyeing me down in inspiration, I studied him for a minute solid. But then I focused to where everyone's attention was; directed to the floor. As the creature found its place, shaking off his dizziness he stood beside his brother. "What do you want to do with this...," Laying out his hand across in front of us he continued disgusted, "Joke like justice league with the skinny fag, and his disgusting open ear lobes. The two fat looking motherfuckers, and the fags fuck buddy, Sebastian?"

     His insults were weak, so I laughed.  Setting his fire Sebastian, began rambling in Spanish. "You done yet?" I pushed, making him even more angry, I could've done this shit all day.

     Literally the room was so dead silent, I could feel the ghostly presence. Possessing me with its bitter angry peace, I shook it off, once a whistle was being blown repeatedly paired with a loud obnoxious rush of yelling from all sorts of directions.

        "Everybody get back to your cells. Everybody now!" And just like a swarm of ants they scattered about, pushing one another in fear of getting into more trouble.

         But the rules didn't apply to us, because we remained staring each other down. My retaliation, is caused by an abrupt action, I never attack first. My enjoyment is antagonizing, and feasting on their built up anger of annoyance.

           They didn't make their move, and that I figured. They wanted to wait for the right timing to bombarded me MeKe, Marko, and Waylon, without the interruptions, and I respected that. Their variant color of bright eyes overflowed with empty intent. And every fiber in their being was flaming, because no matter what, I wasn't backing down, we weren't afraid. MeKe and Marko still staying by my side, and through their mean mugs their loyalty over powered my once negative thoughts about them.

         And there he came, standing in between the crossfire, untouched, but aware, not afraid, but prepared. "Vindango, Eli, Sebastian, Carlos, Papoose, Mikey, Stone, Kayseen, Reman, Renny, and Roman. Get the hell back, finish your lunch and get back to your cells." They didn't leave without much hesitation, their lingered presence was an attempt to announce their power they held over this facility. But he didn't care much about that, because he seemed to have influence over their actions.

          "Marko and MeKe take Waylon up to the infirmary so he can get stitched up and all brand new." On exact que they grouped up and left, but not without glancing a one last hoorah look at Eli and his brother. Laughing I coughed, he stood before me with a raised brow. "You have some visitors Klein. Let's go." Cuffing me out of procedural caution, he purposely kept my back facing Eli. "I thought I told you to stay out of trouble Klein." Lowering his sky level vision he gave me a playful bump, as we exited the cafeteria and entered a new hall.

            "I did. I didn't kill anybody, that should count for something right?" I explained myself while slowly dragging my feet along. The back of my head stinging, as my face burned from the forceful blows.

"They still shank kids in Juvy Klein." He reluctantly informed me with a disappointed low voice. He wasn't proud of the job he held, but it was providing money for the bills, so he felt like this was his only option. The feeling of regret seeped through his stance, the way he looked at the kids in here including me, his forced smile, and jokes. The poor man was miserable, and he only looked at the most 24.

        "Are you telling me this because you want me to be afraid of those guys back there? Cause you're doing a fairly shitty job in doing so."  Finally reaching the end, the dark painted blue walls led to a door. Taking out his badge he waved it in front of the keypad, and with an annoying loud buzz the door opened. It was in a flower garden, where he took me, and there was so much genuine life in those  flowers I became envious, for they lived a happier more peaceful life than my own.

           It's because of the choices you make Klein. My mother's tear filled voice echoed through my ears, those were the last words she said to me before I went on trial, and ended up here. I frowned at the thought of her, as I continued walking.

          "I'm not trying to make you afraid Klein, I'm trying to keep you from getting more years added into your time. But if I can't maybe they will." Unaware that he unlocked my cuffs, he pushed me forward.

         I walked slowly trying to see what exactly he was talking about, there were multiple kids and their families, girlfriends, and their children. Laughing and crying out of joy, hugging, and catching up, with hope that indeed the one they love that has been condemned to be on the inside of hell will survive their time without being killed, seriously injured or sentenced to a lifetime.

      I hope their prayers get answered I mumbled as I stood there, still looking around, I walked more into the center to get a better look of the layout, and then, I saw him.

          Smiling and waving like the little fool he was, "Klein we're over here! Klein! Klein!" Dayton ran across the field to get to me, and tailing after him was Reeko. Ronn didn't seem to happy to see me, which shook me up a little bit, but I ignored it. I remember seeing them running, but I was ultimately surprised when I was tackled into multiple bear hugs.

       Squeezing me lifeless I groaned. "Ahh! Okay, okay, okay, okay, I love you bitches too now get the hell off of me." Slowly but surely Reeko loosened his grip, but Dayton held on like he was prepared for this ride, which he wasn't. He always tries to take my burdens on his shoulders in hopes that someway, somehow I'd change.

   But he knew just as well as I do that change comes once in a million, you don't hop on the train of change, you lose; remain the same. And no it's not putting a foot in, or a hand, you have to be fully committed into jumping on the train, mentally, physically, and emotionally. Because if not, you fall off, and I always toss a hand maybe a leg or two, but I never obligate myself to change.

       And as he stood there holding me at my waist, his tears warmed my core. "When are you coming home Klein? Are we taking you home today?"  He whimpered into the material of the clothing I was wearing, his lively voice drained of leveling, and refilled with a down unhappy husk. As he sobbed into me. I sadly pushed my little brother away, glistening with the mixture of sunlight and the water in his eyes, the innocence of his pure soul blinded mine.

    It squealed and it hurled within me, it's been in the dark for so long it couldn't adjust to such goodness. So out of shame I looked at the grass beside him," Klein, Daryl Brown doesn't bother me and Reeko anymore. He lets us sit with the big cool kids now."

          "Stay the fuck away from him do you understand me? He's sneaky and he's just trying to lure you in to something to spite me."

         "But he,"

                    "Stay the fuck away from him Dayton! What part of me telling you that don't you understand? I kicked his ass that's why I'm in here Day, he hates me, and he hates you. There is no true friend in him, he wants to hurt you, please. Please Dayton, and Reeko, do not trust him okay?"  They nodded their heads, and Dayton left his broken eyes on my shoes. Clearing his tears with his hands absentmindedly, I looked around me sadly.  I yelled at him, I didn't mean to, but he needed to know where I was coming from.

       Ronn patted Reeko and Dayton on their backs and told them to go play football. Doing just that Dayton slowly walked away not once looking my way when he did so. I punched myself, Ronn grabbing my balled fist, and chucked me in the stomach with his.

     "He hasn't seen your little fuck ass in 4 months and you're going to yell at him? That boy has been going through hell don't you know that? His grades have been dropping, he quit the basketball team. He does nothing but write letters to you and you never respond. What? You got in here think you're all big tuff guy too good to step away from the rough life to acknowledge your family?"

        Looking away Ronn snatched my face, I slapped him away. "I haven't gotten any letters you dumb fuck. If I did I would be responding, maybe the shitty warden here has been stashing them so I can't get it." Noticing my bruises, and my knuckles he suddenly got more angrier.

        "You can't control yourself for a year Klein? You can't straighten yourself out just for the time being? You fucking dumbass! You keep this shit up you are going to the state penitentiary, this is not a joke this is serious!"

          "I know, I fucking know how serious this is! Shut up dammit."

          "No. I don't think you get it Klein." Shoving me back roughly I bounced back, blowing a hard breath I ran a hand through my messy hair. Even when I tried to get away, my bad ways always catch up to me. Slamming me hard into its stronghold, tying me inside my fear, forcing me to remain. And I couldn't fight it, because it always would win. Ronn will always be right about me, and I will always prove him right, that I'm nothing but a heartless criminal.

           I bit into my cheek, as Ronn continued to ream me a new one. "You've got two kids that look up to you, they look up to me, you are locked up right now, and the least you can do is give them the encouragement that you'll be out soon. Dayton is lost man, you really fucked him up by this, I know."

    Shaking his head regretfully, he looked back up to me, "Look I know you thought you were doing the right thing defending Reeko and Day, Klein. And you're dealing with the consequences of it, but it's just not the same man. Your mom misses you like hell, her and Dayton are always at our place, trying to ignore their constant worry about you by hanging around forcing themselves to break a smile." Pointing to a different direction he demanded, his hard eyes softening through the swelling of his tears. "Go, man, go."

        Staying I looked at him, "Go Klein she's waiting." Still worried for Ronn I searched around me frantically jogging towards her. My mother was already prepared for my attacking impact. Clashing into her with longing she clutched onto me lovingly. Her short figure, latched to mine, her hair tied tightly I relaxed my head on hers.

       "My boy, I've missed you so much." She said through a pule. Apologizing to her over and over she separated our embrace. "No, that is in the past now. You just get out safely okay? Are you okay my baby? Who did this to you? Klein you can't be fighting people here they are dangerous, they will kill you without remorse!"

     "Mom I can't let them just run all over me, that's not how it works in here."

   "Oh so you'd rather buy into their bait, add on to your sentence. Than break that trembling pride of yours, so that you may get back home to your brother and lead a normal life? Is that what it is Klein? You care more about your faked appearance more than your family?"

   My mother's loose strands of black inked hair blew grandly in the swaying of the wind, as her soft face broke with agitation, but more of a pure disappointment. "Look at you! You're proving everything your father has said correctly, that this wouldn't knock any sense into you. No matter how many times you get arrested , no matter how may times I beg you, you won't listen Klein you will not listen! This is like a cancer to you baby, it is going to take your life until your very last breath, and it hurts me more than it hurts you, because I know that you'll allow it. You're not going to turn your back until you have proven yourself to be invincible, untouchable. Who? Who Klein who are you trying to prove yourself to, God? You think that God isn't going to strike you down where you stand! Well you keep provoking him and you will see sooner rather than later."

     My mom was crying, but out of fury not sadness, slapping me, and throwing her fists into my chest, I grabbed her. "Mom stop." I pleaded, the oncoming stares and awkward moving aways from the scene, I ignored. But still continuing I roughed her up, "Mom I said fucking stop!" And with a mean left hook, she pounded it into my cheek, falling into a chair I fell. Shaking it off I headed for her in much provocation. "You want to fight me Mai Ling?" Getting in her face she shook her head pushing me away frightened. I didn't want to scare her like this but the half of me I was even scared of she had provoked.

    Grabbing her by the chin I forced her to look at me. Her brown eyes unrecognizable as they drowned in her ocean of tears. "Is that what it is? You and Ronn came here to fight? Why'd it take you four months to come see me? Four months you haven't seen me and you fucking come here yelling at me, bitching, and preaching about change. You aren't in my place, you aren't battling my demons are you?

     No but you continue to judge how I fight mine, all by myself. I don't have anyone else but myself in this place you are not here trying to maintain a sane mind! when I seen you guys I wanted you to be my family.

    To actually be happy to see me like all of these other kids, with their families. Talk about the same, you guys always judge and assume the worst of me, no matter the actual situation. You never want to hear what I have to say mom, because you always jump to conclusions. No one cares about how I feel, they only want to force thoughts of how I do down my throat. So fuck you guys. You hear that Ronn fuck you!"

           My mother peered up at me in surprised sadness, and as I reached out to apologize to her she flinched away from me. "Mom." I motioned, but walking away she shook as she raised her fragile foot forward in front of the other. "Mom please I didn't mean it." I felt my heart bulk with guilt, as I chased after her.

      An arm looped around me as I was yanked back from moving forward, grabbing Dayton, Reeko and Ronn followed after my mom. "Mom! Come back I'm sorry! Mom!" Trying every possible way to get her to look my way she refused. "Dayton! Ronn! Reeko! I'm sorry!" For a moment they disappeared, and in the distance running as fast as he could Dayton broke through the crowd. His hair flying with his speed, getting nearer the force around me let up, as I knelt down to reach him. Hugging my brother, I didn't want to let him go, that burning fear stung my organs like a poison shutting them down, as I physically gasped for air.

         "You tell mom I love her okay? Tell Ronn and Reeko that too, just don't... Don't you stop believing in me okay? I'm not that bad guy dad says I am, I'm getting better I promise. It's just happening slower, and much harder than I thought. But don't you let what's going on with me stop you  from living. Get your grades back up, get back on the basketball team and show them how amazing you are Dayton. Please do that for me. Okay?"

      Punching him in the back he did the same to me, "Okay. I promise." Standing now I looked him over, he was taller and a little more built, he must've started working out with Ronn. His face was coming in more, I guess the blame was puberty, and through his tears he held a strong look to him. My fighter, I smiled.

      "Go." I urged, and he did so glumly.

Watching him leave I drove my head into my hands. I couldn't stay in here, I proposed, but I laughed at my attempt to swoon my conscious. It wasn't going to work like that, I already knew. "Klein."

    I doubled around, the voice, the exaggeration of my name for my attention, became of remembrance. But as I saw him, and he saw me I could hardly remember who he was, he wasn't in the uniform I always seen him in.

     He was in a pair of jeans, and a white v-neck, but his boots, he always wore those. Swallowing with content, I ran my tongue over my dry lips, but a salty taste surfaced them. Feeling my face the dampness of tears soaked deep into my palms.

      I cried. And that happens when I'm unaware of how much pain I've taken in, I've fought, delayed, how angry I've gotten. And to keep me side tracked from the actual event of crying I lash out, hence what I did to my mom. Holding the evidence close to my eyes I  was forced into another challenging embrace.

        "You're just scared that's all. And so are they, you all just don't know how to relate that emotion, it isn't a crime to be scared. It's not a crime to open up Klein, you're loosing yourself in this act of being tough do you hear me? Cut it out."

          Severing the grip he had on me I stared at him. "Fuck your pride Klein. I know that's what your battling in here every man has to fight their pride in order to do the right thing okay. Be the better man, you have people counting on you." 

         Mason kept a hand on my shoulder. While he spoke to me, and I listened because I always cared about what he had to tell me. My good friend he was, pushing away the fallen tears on my face he hugged me once more. "I came to see you, I wanted to make sure you were okay, I told Mike to keep a close eye on you. Says a guard roughed you up a little bit, also I was told you got into a fight with the Spanish today. Whatever you do."

    My eyes grazed the ground, "Visiting hours are over, say your good byes, and inmates head to your cells." Starting to make my way back Mason stopped me, "Ignore that, and look at me."

     And so I did. Brown eyes of hope laced through his pupils sinking into his irises. As he fished around mine for my non existent soul. "Stay away from them, they have people in higher places that will turn their backs for just enough time to hurt you badly okay? They can frame you, and things far more worse, I can't do much about this but visit you and keep your head on straight okay?"

         "Visiting hours are over! Inmate say your goodbyes so you may return back to your cell."

        Mason tugged on my shoulder, "okay." I confirmed. Giving me a quick hug, he walked me to the door, and as a proud father sending his kid off to school for the first day he waited. And watched me be taken inside, his jaw tightly clenched to keep up his game face when really he was worried as hell. But hopeful that I'd make the right decisions.

    But he knew just like I knew that I'd just let his hopes down, like I always did.  Yet in spite of that doubt there was a shred of  promise that lied hidden underneath, a shred that would never die. And that is why I always love Mason, because of that hope he held deep into the bunkers of that big heart of his, just  for me.

         My father didn't visit. And I expected that of the man that despised me the most, but Mason made up that void, and he did so easily, because he cared about me.

        The feeling of the cuffs being slapped on my wrists and being locked was comforting to me. I was an animal, my imprisonment was deserved, even though it was driving me completely insane. "Are you okay?"  He asked me.

       Sniffling, I wiped my face. Turning to him he was staring deeply at me, "You never told me your name was Mike." I stammered, changing the subject from me, I was done with it, I hated me. For being the way I was, and that I had no clue of who, or what I was for that manner.

         "You never took the time to look at my badge, and who told you that my name was Mike? When my full name is Mikalango, you know someone I know?"

         "My friend Mason told you to look out for me?"

           Reaching the foot of my cell he stopped, un cuffing me he put the key in his pocket. "He did. Cares a grey deal about you actually. Never seen him so worked up about a kid like you. But since I've met you, I see why."

       "Wh-why do you see why?" I questioned, prying for his exact opinion of me. He laughed, waving his hand, as the door opened.
  
             "Because you're just a reflection of what he used to be, lost. And someway he still is, but you've been helping him find his way, find his purpose. Just like you are."

            Walking inside, he waved that hand of his once more for the door to close. And he backed away, "I'll see you Tuesday, I'm off a weekend and. Monday, stay out of fights ya hear me?"

        "Sadly I can't help but hear you." I replied smartly, his healthy laugh nudged at me until I laughed as well. But it subsided, I heard sobbing, it was Waylon.

    Rushing to his side I knelt down to his bed, running a hand on his back to let him know I was there I asked softly, "What's the matter?" Throwing a note into my chest I looked down confused. "What in the actual fuck is this?"

   Still staring at him hoping he'd tell me what was inside rather than making me look. He didn't he just cried into his pillow. 

     With shitty handwriting I opened the crumbled ball of paper. And read quietly to myself its contents, the words that tore Waylon into tears of  fright. The strongest man fights with his knuckles, his fists. His hands, his feet, a strong man can kill with his intelligence not a gun, or a sword. He will fight till his last breath, he will never forfeit. And at the very end with a light hand on the pencil it marked a day. Sunday. Come alone

     "What somebody wants to fuck you or something?"

     Finally looking directly at me his beaten face was welted. Purple, and black his swollen shut eyes were barely visible. "I was summoned to a fight to death Klein, you can't decline, they'll kill you anyway if you do. You should've just let them kill me Klein, fuck you for being a bad ass hero. You've done more bad than good. I wish I was never bunked with you, I wish we never met. I wish that I didn't see a friend in you, that I didn't tell you all of my secrets and my fears. I hate that I let you in so close, I hate my life, I hate how I ended up in here." His screeching voice was high pitched, as he choked on his welled up saliva.

       Climbing into his bed I grabbed Waylon and his battered body into my arms, while he cried and cried into my chest. "You can hate me all you want Waylon, but I'm going to take care of it. I promise, they're not going to hurt you."

      Still staring blankly at the letter.

              I realized how hard it was going to be surviving this, without dying or hurting the ones I love in the process.

           They say I'm trying to become better than you, but here I am digging into my pride. God please help me.