43. New Buddy and first Visitor

While going down the open corridor to my cell, I heard other guys cajoling and whistling; it was really like in a fucking movie, so crappy clichéd. You will see, you fuckers.

I was brought into my cell, the door closed, and the cuffs were taking down. My cellmate was some black guy, looking big in stature, but as if he was fast to cry. I don't know if I can break this guy. Let's see what he had done. Flexing my free wrists, hurting my broken one again, I stared him down like they do with animals. Whoever looks away first loses.

He lost, probably because of my new eye color, which I found really cool-looking. Anyway. I won first. I tried to blink as seldom as possible like Mr. Lector, but that just got me tearing up, so I let that.

"Don't you have manners? Don't you shake hands where you come from?" Didn't mean that in a racist manner; sorry if it came out falsely.

The guy stood up and was even more massive when coming to me. He trembled a bit and put his hand out, which I shook. Flipping the coin, the back of my hand, golden, eyes, and ears uncovered, the wretched grin was luckily gone from the coin. Past. 

Coming back, I nodded. Very nice. This guy had confessed to a crime he hadn't done for the money for his family. Flipping the coin anew, I saw that he was also paid by my grandmother to become my cellmate. Excellent. Good job for someone with half a foot in the grave.

"Sorry. I just wanted to assert dominance; I know you are a good guy." I whispered to him, and he widened his eyes.

"Ok, I get it." He giggled adorably, like a big Buddha.

"Mate, let's sit down and talk." I motioned for him to sit on the floor, and I did so as well.

"Look, I am innocent; I know my eyes are creepy, but let's get along. Let's make sleeping rules and shitting rules, and everything will be fine. What are you saying?"

He nodded, and his fat wobbled; I wanted to pinch it. I was really relieved that I had one positive experience, at least since waking up and getting hit by my grandfather along with the horrendous news that I had received.

"Ah, and I have to warn you. When we go eating, I will probably kill a guy, but it will be a bad guy. I won't do that to you, okay? Everything is fine, just saving my eyes from falling soaps, asserting dominance, like I did just now, ok? All good?"

He nodded again, but this time slower. There was a glint in his eyes, and we understood each other wordlessly.

"Very good. Now the shitting rules. If either of one shits, the other hides under the blanket and holds his ears shut, as well as his nose, ok? You know, privacy and stuff." Hadn't thought I had it in me to take over all the talking, but it went easy.

He nodded, this time vigorously.

"Perfect, we are buddies now; hey, shitting buddies! That's a deep connection, right?"

We shook hands again, and I flipped the coin, a few times, only getting nonsense about his past. He was a real good guy. Adorable, I am in a much better mood now. 

"Which bed do you want, mate?" He pointed very self-awarely on the bunk bed; I wouldn't feel comfortable with him above me otherwise.

"That's perfect; I just love to sleep with a good view." I gave him a thumbs up, and he did so as well.

We just implemented all the rules and were looking at each other in appreciation when I was called away again. I had a visitor. Now I was in an excellent mood, hoping it was the mummy or one of my friends.

I was again cuffed and got myself a few seizures on the way, but the guards were the ones from before, knowing me already. I made small talk, suddenly feeling awfully talkative at the thought that I was locked up here forever and after seeing shitty people like the needle nurse, who I still held a deep grudge against.

I was taken along to a big room with the phones with and bulletproof glass between them. However, when I saw who sat on the other side, my face iced. My fucking nemesis dared to visit. Does he think that shitty window would hold me down? Ha! 

However, I felt emotionally steady enough to sit down and face him.

My hands were uncuffed, and I sat down. His hair seemed a tick longer, his eyes sharp but somehow soft as well when looking at me, and his sissy mole was also ticking me off. YOU FEEL GUILTY? YOU SHOULD, YOU FUCKER.

Anyway. He just stared at me while I tried to transmit with my eyes that he was dead meat. Finally, it was him who took the speaker and put it to his ear. I followed with slow motion movements.

He cleared his throat, looking at my cast and my bloody wrists. Letting his ugly, fat blue eyes wander over me.

"How are you?"

"Are you still my dog?" I snapped.

"Yes." He answered without looking away, without hesitation. Good.

"I want something from you." Go fuck yourself; go get killed, you damn shithead.

"Say it." He answered solemnly, again ticking me off somehow, with his obedience.

"For every time I get fucked in my ass here…" I saw his face distorting, amusing me.

"I want you to let me fuck you."