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Chapter Ninety-Six
Point of View: Nick


When I was eight, my family did a road trip from Florida to Texas to see The Alamo. The twins were infants, and my mom had her arms full. My sisters were under my watch, and my dad was supposed to be keeping an eye on all three of us, but he was thoroughly distracted. Me being the one in charge at eight years old had been a bad idea, especially over a two and a six year old. BJ, even at six, was far more mature than I was, and was holding Leslie's hand and actually noticing when she fell behind. Me, on the other hand, I was just so pumped to be not cooped up in the car that I didn't notice what either of them was doing.

During the tour, the guide showed us the prison cells. Being a funny ass, I threw myself inside one, and closed the door. I laughed to BJ and Leslie about me being a bad boy and going to jail. But they ignored me and kept walking, the last two in our mini entourage. I reached up to push the gate opened so I could follow them along the rest of the guided tour... but it wouldn't open.

It was locked.

"Beeej?" I called, but she was already out the door. "MOM? DAD? BJ?" I called.

But nobody came.

I was stuck in the cell over an hour and I'd sat down in the corner of the room, certain I would die alone.

This was just like that, except my father wasn't going to come back for me, and the smell was more like urine and cement here than it had been there. There it'd been more like old women's perfume and gift shoppe fudge.

I sat on the floor in the corner, my back against the wall, wearing the stupid orange pajama things they stuck me into. I'd been thoroughly humiliated, completely searched head to toe (and everything in between), and led through a maze of dark, dreary-looking cells filled with guys who cat-called and wolf-whistled and jeered as I walked by.

I didn't want to move... ever.

"HEYYYYYYY!" came a faint echoing voice a couple floors below. "I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE!!!"

I glanced at the barred door, my arms wrapped around my knees, head resting on them, silent tears streaking across my cheeks.

"NICK FUCKING CARTER," came the voice again, "YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!!"

I stared at the door.

Leon.