~ ~ GAGE ~ ~

* PRESENT DAY * 

Had it been seven years?

I looked around the small office they'd brought me into. I guess you could call it nice compared to the cells in this place.

It had felt as though an age had elapsed since my imprisonment had started, but at the same time, the events that led to this place were as clear and fresh in my head as the windowpane I stared out of.

It felt like it had all only happened yesterday.

"Sign here Mr Charles." A man moved a pen directly in front of me whilst my eyes dropped to the clipboard with a sheet attached to it.

Leaning over, I rested my palms flat on the counter and began reading.

Most days in this place had gone by so slowly it was almost unbearable.

Sometimes I had days where I still had to tell myself it was real. It had all happened to us and not to someone else.

No one unless you've gone through the shit I went through could imagine what it felt like to squeeze the life out of a man, to feel a human life jerking and juddering, frothing at the mouth as you stole their last breath.

From that day I'd looked at hands in a whole new light at what they'd done, in horror of the violence.

And for that. They sentenced me to ten years, but because of good behaviour, which is kinda ironic, I was being let out after seven.

Seven long ass years.

Did I regret them?

When I look at what I lost, all those years of freedom of a young man, it was hard not to feel some anger and hurt.

All the things I'd wanted to do. Graduate. Go to college on a scholarship playing football.

I'm sure anyone would feel my frustration at the loss of my dreams.

But I couldn't regret what I did because the alternative was simply unthinkable.

That dirty bastard I'd had the unfortunate pleasure of being related to, my father, although I never called him pa, in my head he was either Kenny or asshole because I hated the fact I was related to that sack of shit and I could hardly stomach the thought of actually sharing something as important as DNA with the man.

Hell, he wasn't even a man.

Chicken shit, low life piece of scum. That's what he was and if I'd had any say on his headstone—that's exactly what it would have read too.

And the truth of it. He had deserved to die that night.

I would never go back in time and change the outcome of my one decision and I'd also do anything to not have to have to remember either.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a breath.

"You got a problem?" asked the prison administrator. A short man with the biggest nose I'd ever seen on such a small head.

My eyes climbed up to meet his. "No, Sir. Just making sure it all reads the way it's supposed to."

Looking down, I tried to erase the memory, but once that door was open, it was hard not to see myself seeing the whole sordid night in full colour. Kenny beating up on Levi. Him, naked, bloody, and I swore he'd killed him, but then I heard a groan as Kenny was about to fuck him with a rusty mental rod.

"I'm gonna teach the queer a lesson," he screamed, obviously high on something. "Turning my son gay."

It had all been my fault.

Jarred from my trip down horror lane. A voice cut in. "Can you get a move on? I don't have time to stand here all day." His thick eyebrows sloped inward. "Just sign the damn thing."

Gritting my teeth, I gave up reading the stupid piece of paper and picked up the pen and sighed whatever shit it was.

Outside, my only friend was waiting, Derek.

I'd met Derek on the inside. He was my first cellmate and the one to show how it all worked on the inside and how to look after myself in that place. I was honest with him right from the start. Told him what had happened, and that I was gay.

In truth, I think I'd hoped I would disgust him and he would beat on me. End my life for me.

But instead, he had simply laughed and said as long as I didn't try to park my dick in his ass, then we were good.

I missed him when he was released two years back, but he visited me every week.

"So, kid. How does it feel taking your breaths of free smelling air?" he asked as we drove off.

Derek always called me, kid. Called everyone kid. I looked out the car window. "Can't say that it smells any different," I grouched.

"You know you're a free man, right?" I felt his eyes on me. "What bugs crawled up your ass?"

Derek had insisted I go stay with him and his wife when I got out. Although very grateful, it was awkward as Levi still lived in the same town, barely a mile away.

Levi and his ma had moved out of that house, but she had died three years back from liver failure or some other alcohol related illness.

You might ask how I know this. Levi wrote me letters, Two a week.

I'd live for them, each written word a reminder that there was good out there, waiting. They had been my saviour more than once. Because I'd not let him come to visit.

There was no way I was allowing him to see me reduced to some number wearing the typical prison coveralls.

That would have torn the heart right out of him.

He felt bad enough that I was in there.

He'd even asked to come and meet me on my release date.

But again, I'd said no.

I couldn't face him. Not sure if I ever could.

Derek kept on waffling, and I forced my head around to listen. He was right. I was free, and that's what mattered and what I needed to focus on.

Not the past or a future that would never be mine.

You might think me cruel, but Levi had carved out a life for himself and from his letters he seemed genuinely happy and I would not ruin it because everything I touched turned to shit.

And Levi, well, he deserved better.