Chapter 3 - Extra - A birthday surprise
4 Years before release
"You wanted to see me for a, 'birthday surprise', brother?" I asked as I stepped into his office. "I told you to address me as Mr. Reed! Do you understand me 'brother'!?" He spat. "But of course, 'Mister Reed'. As I said, you wanted to see me?" After I said this he snapped his fingers and two of the guards brought out a large, black bag with a zipper.
"Is that what I think it is?" I inquired. "But of course brother! It's your own body bag! And look, it comes filled!" He shouted with glee as the bouncers unzipped the bag. Of course, there in the bag was my neighbor, Mr. Gachipson. I have no Idea what it means, nor if it means anything. The point is he was a nice guy.
"Well then brother, I do believe you wish to have fun with your present! Guards, throw him out." As he said this, one of them picked me up and slung me over his shoulder, while the other did the same but with the body bag. "Oof! Oww..." I groaned as I hit the ground, and the body bag was flung on top of me. "Oh and Drake," My brother addressed me. "the police are on their way. Better find a way to hide that body!" He said with his trademark shit eating grin.
About 5 minutes later the police arrived and spotted me.I was pinned and cuffed within seconds. Afterwards I was taken to jail and signed in.
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Day one: Today was hell. I managed to get one of the guards to give me a journal. It was beaten up, but at least it still serves it's purpose. My cell mate is 'nice' as far as it goes in prison though. That pretty much means he won't kill or violate me. We talk sometimes, but he's pretty touchy. The showers are exactly as depicted: dirty, smelly, and a lot of messed up dudes. The food wasn't horrible, but it makes you feel passive for awhile, drugs of course. Anyway, goodnight journal, looks like it's lights out.
Day seven: Well, this week as been eventful. I got beaten up by a fugitive for insulting his manners, blamed for that, resulting in another year in prison, and a broken arm from the fucking guard! If I can't survive a week! Then this place is going to be hell for me in the future. Oh well, four more years of prison here I come! Goodnight journal.