Fair warning: mentioned character death.

°^°

Kevin.

Afterwards. 

I had come to call is just like it was, Before and After. Maybe I should've added in a Before-Before, for my time as a free man, but that seemed so far away, like a dream I once had that was fading away from reality. So I just thought in these two.

Before and After.

It still felt weird but somehow that made it easier. Because once Baxter had taken me away from the studio and the crowds, all we could do was wait as more and more reports of what had happened filled the media.

Of course, the stories were censored, called a tragedy but only the ones directly involved knew what had happened. As I sat in Baxter's office, days later, he took the time to explain it. Well, he hadn't been there, hadn't seen the real horror but for the moment the cellblock was closed and I couldn't investigate on my own. Truth to be told, I was rather thankful the shrink would tell this story to me, as I wasn't too sure about the way one of my fellow inmates would attempt themselves as narrator.
After all, they were convicted criminals and I knew for a fact that most of them didn't regret what they had done.

( He had it coming. )

( He had it coming! )  

( He only had himself to blame. )

( If you had been there - if you had seen it, I bet you would've done the same! )

No, I didn't need that kind of storytelling. Besides, I already knew some information. They had given me some details prior to this meeting as I had the privilege of spending my time in isolation while they cleaned up our cellblock. Meanwhile, the other inmates had to cramp up in other cellblocks or were even transferred to different prisons for the time being.

Baxter started to speak up before I could even begin to think back to the blood littered hallways that had welcomed me home. The first time stepping into the building after what had happened still felt unreal.

" Apparently they had planned their uprising for a long time already. " 

Since the day I had been sentenced. 

" The smaller revolts were just tests. They wanted to see how far they could go. " 

Until a SWAT team planted bullets inside their chests. 

This wasn't official knowledge, but a guard had told me in a desperate attempt to make conversation. It seemed as if he himself still had needed to find a way back to reality. Either way, the monsters were dead and wouldn't come back - except in the nightmares that still haunted this place.

" Thankfully only a handful of guards were seriously injured. " 

Too many had died once the riot had spread, too many just fled the scene out of fear - it was easier to say it this way around. 

" On the plus side... we got a few new ones, you could say they're borrowed from a few other prisons in the state. " 

Five. Only five new guards, who would all linger around the cells and common area until the younger one of the Pauls, the one that still owned this prison, could hire more.

I already pitied them. Without Summers around, discipline wasn't just given anymore. I still remembered when Mitch had given me a set of rules and I still remembered Scott chiming in 'don't fight Summers.' - The man wouldn't be able to walk for years, that yet another guard had told me as well.

" And the inmates? " My voice was weak, fainter than it should be, after days and days, I thought I could've worked through this but it still kept me shivering. " What about the other ones? "

" We'll hold a memorial service for them at the end of the week. "

Baxter looked tired, dark circles decorated his eyes as his next words were barely above a whisper. " About a dozen or so died. " 

Some never made it out of the prison.

Very few ones had spent hours in agony at the local hospital before death finally came to them, while some others still fought. Mitch Grassi was one of them. Severely injured he still lay in a bed, covered with white sheets and although his lovers Avi and Scott had been allowed out of solitary confinement, nobody had yet been able to visit him.

" It's still unclear whether or not Mr Lundquist killed himself. "

I let my head hang low between my shoulder blades before dragging my hand over my face in a fruitless attempt to wipe away the image of Rob's lifeless body hanging in his own cell. It didn't help, as I remembered how the once cuddly man had been reduced to a cold sack of meat.

" Reportedly Mr. Foust and Mr. Rupp were attacked after trying to protect Mr. Brown. "

While Tim only missed his hand, suffered nerve damage on the same arm and got away with half his body littered with bruises, Chris too had lost his life.

" Our nurse, Ms. Maldonado, locked herself in the infirmary alongside the younger Mr. Rupp. "

- who had been there because of a headache. I needed that little addition, that piece of knowledge I had gathered after two sleepless nights. Adam wasn't just unharmed, he was fine and safe. ( Hadn't even witnessed the terror first hand. )

" Thankfully no other inmate had to suffer any limb loss. " I could see a shudder run across Baxter's shoulders before he squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head and continued talking.  

" And starting tomorrow, we will try to bring things back to normal. "

Back to normal.

Half a lifetime ago I would've killed to hear these words but like this - they held a somewhat eerie quality and filled me with a mix of anxiety and confusion. 

What did he even mean by that? 

Would they shove us back in our cells with new guards standing around and then allow us to pretend nothing had happened?

Of course.

How else can one describe ' normal ' in a prison after losing friends, a brother, a god damn hand?

" One last thing, Kevin. " The shrink's words had so far just gone ignored, most of what he had to offer me were bits and pieces of things I already knew. Either that or I should've listened to everything he said because somehow, it all still felt patchy. " Mr. Paul is considering to use, uhm... this... You know, eh - your reaction to this... t-to - "

When was the last time Baxter had stuttered like this?

" You mean he wants to use this situation and like - my reaction to it to strengthen his case and help me out of here? " My voice was deprived of any of the hope I should've felt. Instead, an unsettling mix of feeling numb while nauseous boiled in the pit of my stomach.

At this point, freedom seemed like a distant dream and the lengths to which I would have to go seemed just as unreal.

In a way, at that moment while sitting in an ugly jumpsuit in a prison shrink's office, I couldn't bring myself to care for it anymore.

°^°

Next up: Actual human interactions between Kevin and the other characters in this story. Wild, I know. Just as wild as the idea of me finishing this story.

Please vote and/or review if you like this story and THANK YOU for being here!