He wasn't supposed to be here today. He was supposed to be with his group of friends going to a movie or hanging out or something other than the situation he was currently in. Looking at the orange jump suit skeptically, he sighed once more, regretting the act responsible for him being in this place. Too late to look back on it now though… The deed was done, he had been caught. Now the next six months were going to be spent in hell. It seemed pointless to him though, the thought of spending any time in prison. The fear instilled into him at being dragged to court, paraded around like some sort of criminal (though now he guess that the title was accurate), and being bombarded with stinging accusations should have been enough to teach him not to do it again. He was a good kid, in his opinion. He'd had the highest grades in his class, never had a detention, and never once missed an assignment. Nonetheless, as he looked back at that damned orange jump suit, he knew life was about to change entirely. From being top of the school, to being bottom of the dog pile. He wasn't an optimist about this ordeal either. He knew he'd be ripped to shreds by the rougher and bigger "actual" criminals taken hostage inside this kingdom of doom. He was heading in a boy of innocence and posture, he would walk out a man of experience and hungry survival.
The blond man leading him down the hallway into his cell held a posture similar to military fashion, which seemed odd because he looked no older than a high school senior. His outdated hair cut of a long braid and look of ironed rock added a few years to his exterior. Other than that though, he wasn't aged much. His hands were calloused on his captive's sleeved arm, so rough that it could in fact be felt through the fabric. The young to-be prisoner was lead to an empty cell, the walls stained a tinted yellow and the floors so filthy not even rats would dare feast on the food to fall upon them. He glared through his eye at it in distaste. This was where he was going to spend the next six months of his eighteenth year, and as following the expectations, he was not going to enjoy it.
"Alright, there you go." The blond man had a wispy voice despite his young appearance. He gently shoved the delinquent into his new home, closing the door with a finishing 'clang'. The clang echoed around in the prisoner's head, knowing how it was the end to the old and beginning of the harsh new. Two beds were located in his tiny area, but as far as he could tell he was all alone. "You're by yourself for today, but we get new inmates all the time. Enjoy the solitude while it lasts." His guide said the last sentence with a semi-lustful edge to his broken voice, almost as if to give off the impression that he wanted to be alone all the time.
The delinquent sat on the bottom bunk and ran a hand through his red hair slowly. It had sunk in good this time… He was in jail… prison… the source of society's lowest individuals. There was no hope for escape. He could find his way out of any math problem, report a science subject in near perfection, and even hot wire a car if need be. But the dynamics of breaking out of prison were a much larger scale. Not only that, but it would be useless since they would simply catch him and bring him right back (only that case they would lengthen his sentence). He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. No trouble, no violence, just get out of here.
After some good time of just sitting there contemplating his situation, the young red head decided to take in the remainder of his surroundings. He looked along the walls, dirty and un-scrubbed for what probably was quite a good deal of time. The ceiling was in no better shape. There was an openly public toilet next to the only open wall, also in grim condition. He wasn't cut out for this… Maybe he could ask for a sponge or something and at least try to brighten the place up a bit. He looked out beyond the bars caging him in, cataloguing the hallways and monotonous cement castle making up his cut off from civilization. He could only see inside three other cells from his point of view. The one to the right of his vision didn't seem to be occupying anyone. The bed as made and from, from what he could see, no one was inside. The one to the left of his vision held a young man with tattoos on his arms and a wiry, thin frame. He looked like someone the red head could take down, but he didn't want to risk his chances. Directly across from his cell though, (and here's where he got confused) there appeared be a white haired old man sitting with his back against the bars. fingers played with some kind of weird golden object, and he seemed relatively uncaring about his surroundings.
The one eyed youth went back to sitting down on his bed, pondering as to how an old man could have come to be in a Juvenile prison. The age limit was something like twelve to nineteen. Having an old man in the midst was more than a little bit confusing. But, instead of trying to solve a puzzle with no answer other than asking the people around him (of which he certainly wanted to avoid doing), the red haired delinquent resumed with trying to find a good way of obtaining a sponge to clean the area he was now occupying. He had heard that sometimes they'd make the inmates clean the dishes. Maybe he could volunteer for said job and jack one of their sponges when no one was looking…
Endless possibilities floated through his intellectual head, each idea starting to get more unrealistic than the last. He could have gone on like that forever if not a voice had interrupted his state of spacing out.
"Hey, are you new?"
The one eyed red head looked up and over to where the voice had come from. It was soft, almost child-like, and dripped with dismal emotion. His green hued gaze directed him to the cell across, meeting up with dull silver. The man who he had mistaken for an elderly was actually not a man at all… He was a boy. A rather small and feminine looking thing, but a boy nonetheless.
"Yeah." He replied, "I just came in here, like, twenty minutes ago…"
The white haired male shifted a little, making it so he could converse with more face to face contact. "Oh. Um… Welcome…"
The newcomer wrinkled his nose at the awkward atmosphere now residing between the two. If the boy had wanted to start a conversation with him, then shouldn't he be a bit more talkative? Instead of accusing him outright, the red head tried to make acquaintances. Might not be so bad if he had someone else to talk to.
"I'd like to say I'm glad to be here, but that wouldn't be very honest, I'll admit."
"Um…" Well this was one of the most colorless conversations he'd ever had. "How long you been here?"
"Oh…" The white haired boy looked at the ground for what seemed like forever, finally meeting back with the others gaze. "A while."
"How much of a while?" This was seriously getting irritating.
"A lot of a while."
"Have an exact number?"
"oh… um…" Silver eyes greeted the floor again.
"'Um's' not a number, kiddo."
"Well the thing is… I don't know…" The boy didn't look back up this time. He asphyxiated his stare upon a stain located in the cement flooring. "It's just been… a while…"
He felt a gulp rising up in his throat. This kid had been here so long, that he didn't even remember how long he had been here? Well the boy was odd, no doubt. White hair? Ridiculous. And his speaking mannerism weren't very sociable…
'Great.' He thought, 'I would end up getting spoken to by the most murderous guy here…" Unfortunately at the moment he really had nothing better to do, so making conversation was the only option right now.
"So, what did you do? To get jammed in here I mean."
White hair swished around the woman-like face and the one eyed prisoner got shot with a strange look.
"I did something bad…"
"Well that's obvious, look where we are!" He motioned to the bars and cells making up their current living quarters. "Details. Come on, I'll tell you if you tell me."
"I don't wanna say…" The kid curled his knees up to his chin, still occupying his gaze with that ugly stain.
"Ok then…" His patience was wearing a bit thin. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen. I think…"
"I don't remember… but I think the last guard said I was fifteen when labeling off the people here…"
Progress. Finally. "I'm eighteen, so I guess that makes me older than you" He gave a wide grin hoping to coax a reaction out of the kid other than this creepy blank look he had going. "What's your name?"
At first the boy gave him a funny look, like he had smelled something wretched. But then he gave a little half smile, though the attempt wasn't very heartening. "My name's Allen. Allen Walker. I think… No… I'm sure about that one." The younger giggled into what ever he was holding in his hand, leaving the other to wonder what was so funny.
"Nice name. Mine's Lavi. Lavi Bookman." Lavi reached a hand out through the bars, jesting a handshake. "How do ya do?"
"I can't reach that far." Allen's temporary smile was replaced by the usual blank stare.
"You don't seem like the type who normally calls on people to make friends…"
"Oh… I'm not."
"Why'd you call out to me then?" The white haired weirdo was openly admitting to his unsocial outlook, leaving Lavi to wonder why he'd gone out of his way just to talk to him.
Instead of replying, the boy hugged his knees tighter to his chest and looked up to his green eyed semi-companion. "I don't like talking to Tyki anymore…"
"Who the hell is Tyki?"
"He used to be nice…" Eyes to the floor again. "But now he's kind of mean."
"Mean like how?" Getting this kid to talk was a lot of effort. He was used to his friends trying to get him out of his books and join the chatter. Now things were completely reversed.
"I don't want to tell you…"
"So you don't trust me?"
The boy shook his head and buried his face into his knees.
Lavi sighed wearily. "H'ok then. If you ever feel like talking, just let me know…" He turned away form the bars and made a move to sit down on the bed again before he was called back.
"Wait… don't go…"
"I want… I wanna talk to you…"
"About what?" The amount of effort it took just to keep on par with this kid was already starting to take its toll. He wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to keep this act up.
"I don't know… What do you like to talk about?" Allen looked up again, trying to put on a smile.
"Uhh…" Lavi scratched the back of his head. "Do you like girls?"
"Girls are dumb."
At first he thought he had heard his younger conversation partner wrong. Who just says "Girls are dumb"? That's something a four year old would do!
"If you don't like girls than what kind of person would you date?"
"That's kind of lonely isn't it?"
He shook his snowy head vigorously. "Not anymore." He grinned.
"Huh?" The amount of emotions this one kid could go through in under five minutes… absolutely astounding. Lavi quite honestly just didn't know how to handle it.
"I'm not lonely anymore." Dull silver twinkled feebly as if trying to relight a shine once shown regularly, but had now been repressed like a dying battery in a flashlight. "I have you now."
"Me? We just met… Barely at that…"
"You don't… want to be friends?" The grin was killed immediately, replaced by an upset frown.
"No, no. I never said that…" Jesus, this frekaing kid…! "Alright. I'll be your friend."
"Yeah. Really." Lavi grimaced inwardly. Why couldn't he make friends with the thugs? At least then when he got out he'd seem like some sort of bad ass cronie. No. He had to make friends with the socially awkward serial killer boy. Fan Fucking Tastic. "Anything else you want to talk about?"
"Tell me about outside."
"Oh… well.. What do you want to know?" The red head thought about that statement for a minute… Allen had been here so long that he didn't even know the modern world buzzing around the shell protecting this prison. It was… kind of sad…
"Narrow it down kiddo." He laughed good-naturedly, hoping the boy would warm up a bit over time.
"Oh… What's High School like?"
"It's difficult, but you make a lot of good friends… thought you make some bad ones too."
Their discussion went on in that fashion for a good few hours. Allen asking about things most people thought of as common knowledge, and Lavi responding with as best an explanation he could give. It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Within the first thirty minutes, he'd been able to avoid getting beat up, and even found a friend in a relatively friendly (If not horribly odd) young fellow. Hopefully the six months would go by quickly, and with Allen to talk to they may just as well…
To Be Continued.