I didn't have friends before you. Well, maybe

I still don't.

I don't know if I want to be your friend.

Because I like to be alone.

Alone, where it's quiet. Where I can be by

myself, away.

Away from the questions and the people.

Away from everyone; just… By myself.

Alone is exactly the place I need to be.

No one in the whole place knows me or why I'm here.

They just know that I have triggers.

Luckily, here that isn't so unusual. One guy circles the pole

in the rec room all day, every day. Just walks

in circles and goes around and around and around and around and around

He never stops. Not until they drag him back.

And then he does it all again the next day.

If I had to guess I would say OCD

but what do I know?

I've attacked a couple nosy inmates,

thrown countless chairs at walls and stuck a

pencil into an orderly's leg once. They know that.

I've grabbed an orderly by the back of the head and

bashed his face into the vending machine because

it wouldn't work and

he wasn't listening to me.

Broke

the glass and his face. I was put in isolation for

two months following that one.

Two months was rough,

but I came out exactly the same on the

other side, no worse for wear.

But he'll never have his baby face again.

Now it's all

mottled with scar tissue,

red angry lines twisted

across his face like a road map.

And I think he hates me.

Welcome to the club, bub.

Oh, it's you.

Your first words to me. Like you knew me.

You came into the shadows,

into the deep dark corner where I sat

alone. Separated from the others. Until you.

What do I say to that? I just stared at you,

and you looked all around.

At me, at my glare

and at my jigsaw puzzle

littered across my card table, my Rubik's

cube in my hand, at the orderly

who stood close by and the

clock that hung on the wall

behind me.

Apparently you decided that I was

no real bother. You went to sit on the

couch and I stiffened.

Close. You were too close.

If you noticed

you didn't care. You picked up the remote

and turned it to the news.

They talked about construction, about

the Wayne foundation donating money

to have a new wing added to the hospital

and how some roads would be closed for the

next four months until it was finished.

The mayor was also a hot-topic issue.

And you just grumbled at everything they said.

I wanted you to leave. I tried to make it

obvious. I sighed often and turned my back to you.

A challenge. You never turn your back on the

enemy. But you weren't the enemy, at least

not yet.

Apparently you weren't watching the news as closely as

I thought, or else I'd caught your attention,

because you spoke to me.

I, ahh, don't mean to bother you, but… I've gotta ask. What're you doing?

Funny, your words were polite but your tone was

mocking. The answer must have been obvious. The

puzzle pieces were still littered all around me. I didn't want

to talk to you. My silence was enough to convey

that particular message. I clenched my teeth and

wondered just how stupid you

must be

to not realize that I was focusing

really hard on ignoring you

Instead of hurting you.

I mean, I didn't know you yet.

That would be rude.

You looked to the orderly as if he

would answer for me.

He didn't, of course. He stood there in his spot

near me, eyes forward, face blank.

Irritation flashed across your face. You

don't like to be ignored. Now, your interest

was peeked. Your forked tongue darted

along your scars.

A moment passed and you tapped your

fingers restlessly as you watched

me. I don't know if you were waiting on

me to say something, but it felt like you

were speaking for me,

carrying on a conversation in your head because

when you stood you humphed like I'd

said something interesting and approached

like I'd called you over. Stopped behind me.

The blocks of the Rubick's cube slid faster

under my fingers. Shift, shift, shift, click.

Shift, shift, shift, click. Shift, shift, shift,

Click.

You loomed over me. I could smell you.

Dirty hair and sweat and clean fresh

laundered clothes provided by the

Institution. And delousing powder.

Also provided by the Institution.

The smell of that crap makes my throat

burn and you were covered in it.

I held my breath and you leaned closer,

Peering over my shoulder down at

The card table. I could hear you,

hear your tongue brushing

over your scars.

I leaned away and suppressed

a grunt of disgust.

You reached around me, your

skinny fingers outstretched towards

the puzzle pieces.

It happened fast, like a lightening strike.

My hand,

wrapped around your wrist,

tight, coiled like a

python, and squeezing tighter

because you froze.

You weren't expecting that. People don't

touch you all that much. And like

a true lightening strike, it would take

astronomical odds for me to ever get

lucky enough to get the upper hand with

you again. Not that I knew that then.

We didn't move—didn't breathe.

I held onto your wrist and eyed

where your fingers almost touched

one of the puzzle pieces.

The Rubick's cube was still in my other hand.

The orderly was watching us now. Sounds of

the other inmates coughing and muttering

and laughing filled our silence.

My eyes were fixed on the card table.

Your heart was racing. I could tell

by your pulse.

"I'm not finished yet."

You growled as I unfurled my fingers,

and before I had completely let go you snatched

your hand back.

The rest of the room hushed.

I rarely bother to speak. I don't normally

need to. I think they were confused.

Coming around the side of the table,

Your eyes glittered dangerously

now as you watched me like you were

seeing a whole new person. You looked

at the card table, the scattered

puzzle and the Rubick's cube and

me.

How much longer?

My fingers twitched. Tight jaw, I

glanced up at you. Nostrils flared.

Impatient man. My tolerance evaporated

like spilled water scorched cement.

The pressure in my head was

almost impossible ignore. It grew and grew,

and I smacked my head

with my free hand two times. Inhale,

exhale. Inhale,

exhale.

I returned to the puzzle.

A short time passed as you waited

on the response that wouldn't come,

and you watched me. You watched

me fit the puzzle pieces together with

the scenic picture of Mount

Rainier face down, and you

leaned forward like you were

watching the most intense car

chase on the news you'd

ever seen. Riveted. Transfixed.

Prying.

Humming lowly to yourself,

You rested your elbows on your

knees and settled in to watch me work.

You were hooked.