After fighting several times against other gang members, against allies, I started thinking, and I realized that maybe prison wasn't the best place to make some friends.
It was nighttime. I was in my cell, checking out some new magic book. There were mind-control spells, combustion spells, love spells—nothing I didn't know how to do.
I put the book aside and checked the time on my phone. 2:55 A.M. It was almost time.
"Hey, you, dumbass," I called that innocent guy.
"Yes, boss?" with his face painted like a skull and his black clothes, he totally looked as another member of Death.
"I'm leaving now. Take care of the prison while I'm out. Remember: this is Death's territory, and I want to keep things that way. If someone doesn't stay in line, torture him first, and then kill him. No one should never disrespect us."
"Yes, boss," he said. "But What you mean by "leaving". They're letting you go?"
"Yes, dumbass," I answer, "they just sentenced me to two weeks. I'm gonna escape, you idiot."
"Yes, boss. I'm sorry."
Anyway, I checked the time on my phone again. 2:58 A.M.
"Hey," I said before leaving, "now that I think about it, I never gave you a nickname, did I?"
"No, boss, but my name's—
"Don't ever tell your name to anyone, you dumbass," I told him. "If someone knows your name, he can trace your family; that's why in gangs we use nicknames, and you've already earned yours. From now on you're gonna be... Skull. Tell the others I said you're Skull."
"Yes, boss. Thank you, boss," said Skull.
At that moment, all the lights in the prison went out, and several inmates started shouting.
"Hey, turn on the lights!"
"Get away from me, dude!"
"You're so fucked, you piece of shit!"
And it wasn't a surprise that they'd get on edge, 'cause blackouts like this aren't that uncommon in prison, and when they happen, someone almost always turns up dead. Honestly, there's nothing more convenient than a blackout to kill someone; I mean, no one's going to see you do it 'cause everything's pitch black, and cameras won't record shit 'cause they're off. What more could you ask for?
Even though I didn't plan the blackout for that.
Suddenly, some cops came and surrounded me.
"Put this on, boss," one of them gave me a uniform just like theirs. I put it on and gave them my clothes. "Let's go."
"See ya, Skull," I said. "You're in charge now, and 'cause of that everyone will try to kill you any day, any time. You'll never be able to sleep again. Good luck."
I left my cell surrounded by those cops, and we walked through the hallways. It was still dark, so it was the perfect moment for anyone to try to kill me.
But no. No one dared to come even close.
Fucking cowards.
Anyway, we left the prison and went to the parking lot. There were patrol cars, tow trucks, and one of my armored trucks.
"Well, good luck, boss." One of the cops gave me the keys to that truck, and another one put my clothes in the trunk. "If you need anything, just call us."
"Before you go," a third cop said, "you wanna take that XyzqvqzyX armor with you?"
"Leave it in the storage room with the rest of my stuff," I told him. If I was about to get the power of friendship, why did I need that shitty armor with me? "But don't let anyone grab it."
So, I got in my truck and drove off. Just like that. The police even waved goodbye.
I don't know why people think escaping from prison is hard. You just have to pay enough and that's it.
I drove all night, thinking about that town, my family, my friends, and I also remembered a time when I was a kid, about five or six years old. It was already afternoon. I was walking by the park, and a rich kid who was there saw me and asked me to play with him. I don't know what a rich kid was doing in that shitty town, but there he was. He even lent me some of his toys 'cause obviously I didn't have any.
The thing is we started playing, but suddenly his dad came over and told the boy they were leaving. I gave him back his toys, and we said goodbye. The dad came over and the first thing he said to the boy was:
"Are these all your toys?"
The kid said "yes," but that piece of shit insisted.
"You sure? You can tell me if they aren't."
Fucking asshole. Just 'cause he saw me with a dirty shirt, broken shoes, and a dirty face, he thought I was a thief. If I'd tried to steal one of those toys, where would I hide it, you asshole? My pockets were fully ripped."
The kid said "yes" again, "these are all my toys," and got into his dad's super-expensive expensive truck.
I approached that man and asked him when they were going to be back 'cause I wanted to play with that kid again, but the son of a bitch didn't even look at me. He just got in his truck and drove off, as if I hadn't been there.
And you know what pisses me off the most about people like him? They have the most punchable faces in the world. Why are those dumbasses the ones who rule the world, the ones who have their lives figured out from the very start?
But anyway. After a while, I arrived at my hometown, Myseryville. The sun was rising. I drove through the streets and saw abandoned buildings, people getting high, armored trucks, destroyed trucks, kids with guns.
Everything was exactly as I remembered it.