The set up is standard but still a little overwhelming, there are guards everywhere. We've had our equipment searched, been frisked by security and had our background checks done all before getting into the building. The clinic room is bright, sterile and surrounded by glass windows. You can see everything going on outside, straight into some of the cells, and every prisoner and guard can see everything we're doing inside too. There is always a minimum of two guards securing the door to the clinical facility, heavily armed and ready to step in when necessary.
Dr Graves introduces himself to the prison Warden who quickly informs us of a brawl that broke out over lunch time yesterday.
"You may be seeing a lot more than you'd planned for today, I'm afraid Doc,'' he says dryly. "I hope you brought an extra pair of hands." Looking over at me like I’m the work experience kid, chewing on the toothpick between his teeth.
"Oh don't worry, Luci here is more than capable of attending to a few cuts and bruises. Aren't you Luci?" Dr Graves says with a smile that feels more lustful than necessary.
"Yes, Sir." I nod, turning to face the Warden, "Shouldn't be a problem." I add with the sweetest smile I can physically muster.Prick.
Our morning starts slowly, we share the work space but control separate sides of the room, working fluidly together to get through the long list of patients. If necessary there’s a curtain pulled between the beds to allow for the smallest bit of privacy to the inmates that we’re attending to. I prefer to keep it closed the majority of the time. Anything to interject the lusting eyefuck Tom has been giving me since we started. He really must be gagging for it because he usually isn't this bad.
The job itself is relatively easy, there are no instruments here other than suture ties, and even those are kept under lock and key to deter anybody that may have the brilliant idea of trying to use them as a weapon. Any major trauma is sent elsewhere, we are just here to ‘lighten the load’ so to speak.
We’ve managed to see and treat a good number of inmates off the list but as the day goes by, I get the overwhelming feeling that I'm being watched. Not just by the inmates, and not just by Mr eyefuck himself. No, this is invasive, I can feel eyes burning into me everywhere I turn. Like prey being stalked. I have to ask myself. Am I being paranoid?
The more men I see, the worse it gets. An overwhelming tense feeling that something is about to happen, that I can’t seem to shake off. Chewing at the lid of my pen, I pull the patient files off the clipboard and scan quickly over the list of names we’re still due to see. No Vinny Holland. I breathe a sigh of relief, though it does little to quell the nausea threatening to spew, but I continue to call the next inmate through regardless.
“Larry Hoskins,” I call as I slip on a fresh set of gloves and an apron.
A weed of a man saunters through the glass doors, his face covered in acne scars and a thin black mess of stubble on the surface of his face and neck. The stench of damp and body odor lingering around him is nauseating. My stomach churns instantly as it hits my nostrils and I have to remember to keep my face in check. This really will make me barf if I don’t remember to breathe through my mouth.
“What can I do for you, Mr Hoskins?” I ask politely, keeping a wide berth between us.
“My dick hurts when I piss, yano,” he spits while grabbing at his crotch.
I catch Dr Graves’ face scrunch up in disgust in my peripheral vision before he turns back to his station. I watch as the guard at the door raises his eyebrows and leaves the room. Where the hell is he going?
“So you gonna get on your knees and kiss it better or what?” Larry adds, stepping closer towards me, now shoving his hand down the front of his sweatpants.
The repulsion rises in my throat and I immediately step backward, bumping into the clinic trolley and knocking the tray of sterile swabs onto the floor behind me. The loud crash of the stainless steel tray smashing against the hard tiled floor perforates the air and I become acutely aware of a hundred sets of eyes watching me from every direction through the glass panes surrounding the room. I kneel quickly, fumbling to pick everything up, very conscious that Larry is slowly closing in on me, watching very closely at every move I make. I have no idea what Tom is doing or where he even is at this moment in time. Surely he can see what is happening, right?
I hear a deep groan behind me and look up to find Larry grabbing at himself now with both hands in his pants and drool spilling over his bottom lip.
“What I’d do to make you fucking scream,” he says, eyes undressing every inch of me.
Tom appears beside me and places a hand on my arm, and for once I have no intention of removing it.
“I think you’re done here,” he states, his tone full of disgust and outrage. “GUARDS!” he shouts, grabbing the attention of the man outside the glass who unlocks the door and steps inside. “We’re finished here thank you, Mr Hoskins can go back to his cell,” I say in one breath.
“What!? Fuck off!” Larry begins to shout. “You haven’t even done anything, you stupid slut!”
I move myself behind Dr Graves while two guards barrel past us, and begin to fight with a scrambling Larry to return him back to his cell. “The things I’d do to you, you bitch, you’d be screaming.” Larry calls as he’s dragged away back towards his block.
As soon as they’re clear of the door, I slam it shut behind them and shiver.What a fucking creep,I think to myself. I’ll definitely be taking up Kat on the offer of going for a drink tonight, I'm going to need it.
A hand on my shoulder makes me jump. “SHIT!” I gasp, jumping round to see a startled looking Tom.
“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says with complete sincerity in his voice, his eyes roaming my face for an answer.
“Yes, yes I’m fine. Thank you Tom.” I notice my use of his name makes his face change, something flickers deep within his eyes and it makes me regret it instantly. But still, I’m glad he was here to help me. I just wanted the ground to swallow me up.
Tom smiles at me. “How about we break for lunch? I think now would be as good a time as any. Don’t you?” I nod in agreement and let him lead me out of the room, still a little in shock I think and allowing him to place his hand against my lower back as we walk, escorted by two new guards to the staff canteen.
Chapter 2
Silas
Here I am in High Desert State Prison. It's 6 am and like fucking clockwork every morning that damn bell goes off to remind us it's time to piss, shit and dress before being rounded up like fucking animals for breakfast. It's a schedule that is quickly learnt, I've been here just over 18 months and soon my sentence will be over. I'm just biding my time, 10 days until I walk out those doors and become the king once again where my brothers have been taking care of our kingdom. I'm looking forward to seeing them and celebrating with whores and a hella lot of alcohol. I'm not one for drugs but you can bet they will be in supply to my men that night.