October 8, 1980
New people came into the jail 2 days ago. Shocker, right? It's been awhile since anyone new came about. Well anyone notable at least. Me and Riley were sitting at the lunch table talking about the games we played. I've counted and so far we both have 5 games we've played and survived. Usually this is where the luck ends and strategy comes to play, but Riley thought that maybe we were just being lucky. He said he felt like some of his games had been rigged. In one of his games he said that the guard changed the ammo in the cylinder and his excuse was that "the gun looked like it was getting jammed". It's just so happened that when the other guy Riley was facing 5th shot didn't kill Riley and when Riley shot the gun, it killed the man instantly.
"Maybe the guy took pity on you." I said.
"Why would anyone feel pity for me when I'm killing somebody?" Riley asked, crossing his arms.
"Well, I mean you always look so terrified going in. You come out of the games like you saw some ghost." I jokingly said.
"Oh haha, very funny. It's not my fault I'm one of the few people who feel remorse. It's scary, especially when I look like an innocent weak person." Riley said. Pouting like a 5 year old.
"Eh, at least you're self aware." I said. The door opened and more people came into the building. None that wasn't out of the ordinary. Usually the criteria is a young or slightly old man, white with some color here and there, short or colorful hair with some sort of financial problem being the reason they come here. Me and Riley and some others were really the only ones who looked different to the criteria. Yes, I am white and yes I came here to pay off my house payment, but I have curly black hair, 5 '8, 22 years old and out of everyone here, I'm one of the skinniest which is surprising that someone slim like me could be a better fighter than these beefy guys. Riley is pretty open to his feminine crossdressing stuff. Gives clear signs to where everyone knows he is not manly at all. He's also pretty short. Like 5 '0 feet short. With big brown eyes, black fuzzy hair and being spanish, he is very different to the other men here. I wasn't expecting much from this group, I wasn't gonna talk to them at all, until I saw this one guy who looked so bizarre it made me feel normal. He was the same height as me, his eyes were different colors. One was blue and the other was green. He walked as if he had a stick up his ass. The dude was all messy and his expression did not show any sense of fear, rather annoyance. He was a real freak. I didn't try to be his friend. Mainly because this guy had the look like he would bite my ear off if I said something he didn't like. But of course, Riley had to go and say hi because of course he had to. Before Riley could stand up, I grabbed his shoulder and looked at him as if I was saying he was crazy if he was gonna go talk to the man. Riley looked like he understood me, but he took my hand off his shoulder and got up to walk to the guy. I couldn't help, but watch their conversation. I wanted to pull away, but it became so normal to intrude and observe people that pulling myself away was a difficult task to commit to. Their conversation seemed normal at first. It wasn't until Riley pointed to me till I met the freaks gaze. I could tell he was judging me. From every single action and inch of my body that was shown. It was quite weird, almost intimating. Riley and the man walked over to the table and I quickly looked at the table and pretended like I had been eating even though I didn't touch my plate till that point. When the two sat next to me, I felt heavy, I've never felt this feeling. This feeling of uneasiness or at least not this much. Even during the attack by the group, I didn't feel this bothered before. Riley cleared his throat and introduced me to the man.
"Franklin, meet Harrison Fitzgerald. He was brought here against his will."
"Hey…" I wanted to say, "How original", but for some reason my mouth betrayed my brain and just awkwardly greeted him.
"Nice to meet you Higgins, I heard you and Riley were friends?" he asked.
"Yeah I suppose you could say that." I felt his grip on my hand slightly tighten. His smile was big, but I could feel a sense of oddity from him. That smile felt so fake to how he was feeling. It wasn't like a Loco Lance type smile, it was more of a creepy and judgemental smile.
"Good to know. Riley is a pretty nice guy. He invited me to be friends with you both. It is certainly refreshing to see polite and safe smiles from people." Harrison explained.
"Why? You haven't seen this from anyone outside or something?" I inquired.
"No, I came from prison. I was told if I did this, I'd get freed. I'm a good person so hopefully they'll let me out." I felt a slight tug on my hand from his, before he let go and left me speechless. An actual criminal is in a place full of broken unstable people. This is probably the worst decision imaginable. I knew this place was sadistic, but having a possible murder or hell even a rapist in this place full of men who are broken and blood hunger to get out of these walls is probably the worst thing to do. This really feels more like a jail for the unfortunate and the mischievous criminals. Anyway we stood at the table. Talking about really anything, I don't know I wasn't paying attention. As far as I remember they were talking about Harrison's jail life and what it was like. The only thing I could remember him saying was that compared to the jail he used to be in, this one was way better because he at least has people to socialize with. I don't know if this guy was put in a padded cell, but the way he describes this place and looks around with amazement as if he was in a 5 star hotel is pretty depressing thinking about it. I hope I don't turn out like that guy. But some news, I've gotten some updates about the love letter I found. Seems like this person is pretty poetic and a bit bold too. The way they word their sentences is quite an attractive way, but as far as I know no one here would be able to write something as good as this so, I'm guessing this is like some love letter from the woman in the women's ward. I've never met the woman anyways, so this letter doesn't mean much to me anyways. It sucks really, maybe there could have been something for me, but I guess not. That's how it always has been, whenever I think I'll get something good to happen, it doesn't. So I've become indifferent about thinking anything good could happen to me. My idea is that if anything good happens to me, great! But if nothing happens or something bad happens, it is what it is. There's no reason to get worked up about it. Of course, it was never like that. When my brother was still alive, I took being a kid for granted. Anything good that happened to me, I'd rub it into peoples faces like I received a trophy at the olympics. Whenever anything bad happens, I'd cry to my mother or brother about how unfair life is treating me. I'd never go to my father for that. He hated when I did that stuff and has slapped me before for it. It was when I didn't get a toy I wanted and I was sad about it. He slapped me and told me
"Get over it. You'll find many other toys and you have tons of them at home anyways." My father was never very gentle to me, even when I was a little kid he didn't show me much affection or care and only for my brother was he nicer. That's why I barely show much emotion around him. After my brother's death I didn't get a lot of good things. No friends, no new stuff, no more than love from my mother only. So after a while I just grew more neutral to anything. So when something good happens I kinda shrug it off because I knew that one day that good thing would disappear. It happened to my brother, why couldn't it happen to anything else I enjoy? If this truly is from another woman, I won't see them. So I'm not getting my hopes up. I'll end it here. I don't want to make myself upset. So I'll sleep it off.