Page 13 of Caged In

Izz scoffs, wanting nothing more than to keep his cellmate awake all night to suffer alongside him. He knows it’s petty and his cellmate doesn’t deserve it—with how nice Reni has been to him and everything he’s done to help him settle into this crappy life in a caged-in Hell—but his mind still races with the desire for another to feel his pain, so they can understand what he’s going through—

Considering Reni was here first, his cellmate would already know the painful bedding situation. And he has lived it longer—long enough to apparently not care about it anymore. How long will Izz have to be here to become use to the torturous bed . . . ?

Nope.

No way. Not happening. He is never going to get use to this. Swishing his legs, he fights to will the mattress into submission. To fluff it up. To do anything.

Why must you be so uncooperative—

“So,” Reni begins casually, “What did ya do?”

“Do?” Izz mutters, not paying Reni much mind as he flops like a dying fish on his metal frying pan.

“To get ya ass thrown in here?” Reni clarifies.

Izz curses under his breath, resigning his feeble attempts to sleep comfortably.

Are you allowed to ask about this? About how someone came to be an inmate? Or is that just in the movies where it’s wrong to ask another prisoner that question? He doesn’t know or care at this particular moment. Does it matter if Reni knows?

“I . . . acquired belongings that may not have been mine,” Izz hedges. He only stole to provide for his family, he wasn’t stealing out of greed. He doesn’t want to be placed into the thieving category of those who do it for themselves with selfish intentions.

Reni laughs, a cheerful noise at odds with how depressed Izz feels. “Just say you’re a thief, ay.”

“I’m not admitting to anything.” Izz leaves the rest unsaid. That he doesn’t view what he did as being a bad person. Sure, it was wrong, he knows it was breaking the law. But he would do it a million times over to get the money they needed to save his sister’s life. She had to have those meds, those operations, and everything else. And she never would have had her life-saving treatments without the money he contributed in a not-so-legal fashion. He has no regrets about stealing for her. His only regret was changing his MO, and, in turn, getting caught.

“Smart,” Reni rearranges his body, facing Izz to make it easier for them to talk, “Well, it would be, if ya aren’t already doing your time for it.”

Izz lets out a dismissive noise, waving off Reni, even though the other can’t really see him in the dark cell. He’s not about to explain his life choices to someone he just met. Reni might have been nice to him so far but it doesn’t mean he completely trusts him.

“What about you?” Izz isn’t too sure he wants to know, but better he does. If Reni turns out to be some crazed lunatic, itwill be better to know now, so he can prepare himself and not be caught unaware.

“Oh, Iacquiredcars that may not have belonged to me,” Reni mocks Izz’ response.

Izz puts on an accent to mimic his cellmate, and shoots back, “just say ya a thief.”

It’s silent for several seconds before they both burst out laughing, which earns them disgruntled colourful responses from the neighbouring cells—filled with more cursing than anything tangible, however, the meanings behind the words are crystal clear.

~~~

It takes Izz a long time to fall asleep. He lays awake, listening to Reni’s soft snoring. And the not-so-subtle snoring from inmates in the surrounding cells—who snore like damn nuclear missiles going off. How does someone snore that loud and not wake themselves up? How have their cellmates not strangled them already? He does not condone murder. But, in this instance, he’s willing to make an exception.

And they all got pissy at me for laughing.

He groans loudly, pulling his pillow out from under his head to smother his face with it. If he suffocates he won’t have to listen to the noises in this stupid prison. A caged-in Hell-hole.

Won’t have to worry about the crappy mattress either. It’s a win-win situation.

Or perhaps not . . .

He wants to go home. Wants to be there for his mum. For his sister. He wants to go back to the way it was, before he started pickpocketing. Or back further to before his sister’s cancer, andstay there, in that safe time and place. Before life became too real. Too cold and unruly.

Izz eventually drifts off, too exhausted to stay conscious a second longer.

6

By the time the prison bells rudely summon Izz into consciousness, his cellmate is already awake and ready for a new day. He can hear Reni pacing around, or maybe jogging on the spot? Izz’s eyes are tightly screwed shut, and he harbours no plans to open them anytime soon.

He despises morning people—cheery, bright, happy, wide awake—morning people. He holds a slight jealous grudge towards them. He can’t help it, it takes several hundred alarms every minute and an arsenal of willpower, to drag his butt out of bed. So, yes, he’s resentful towards people who can spring out of bed one hundred percent awake on the first alarm. When he feels like a sleep deprived zombie.

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