Ballet at Lunch

My chat with Michael made me see things in a completely new light. It struck me that he must have been part of something fishy, as there was no reason for me to get arrested at his place without an explanation from him. Initially, I believed he was the victim, and by extension, I was too. But learning that he actively contributed to my predicament was a real shocker.

Now, I couldn't help but wonder why he was suddenly appearing in my life again. Was it another scheme to pull me into a mess I had no hand in, or was it a belated sense of guilt after 15 years? Either way, if it was guilt, it felt like it had arrived way too late – 15 years too late.

I moved through the rest of the day absentmindedly, and as I did this, I was unaware that lurking around the corner was an impending catastrophe. A couple of hours after my encounter with Michael, we were all piling into dinning hall for lunch. I walked absentmindedly in the lines of fellow inmates adorned in our orange apparel. My tray held a disheartening sight - pale, mashed-together rice resembling oatmeal, a few pieces of dehydrated fish submerged in a brownish broth, and an apple.

As I approached the lone seat at the distant end of the communal dining hall, a sudden halt by the person in front of me resulted in me dumping the food from my tray on her back. The entire dining hall fell into a momentary hush as forks froze midway to mouths, and curious eyes turned in our direction. The abrupt pause in the rhythmic hum of mealtime conversations heightened the tension in the air.

The culprit of this unintentional food pour turned slowly to face me, revealing a familiar face that I had intentionally avoided for good reason – Sonia. Always carrying an air of aggression. A palpable sense of unease lingered as Sonia, visibly under the influence of substances that seemed to have defied the prison's supposed security measures, stood mere inches away. Her eyes were ablaze with an intensity that hinted at a storm brewing within. I couldn't help but notice the erratic pulse in her veins, likely fueled by whatever illicit substances had made their way into her possession.

As she began to raise her voice, I felt the fine mist of saliva landing on my face, prompting me to absentmindedly wipe it away. Unfortunately, my actions seemed to trigger an unexpected reaction. Sonia, already teetering on the edge, took immediate offense and her words escalated into physical aggression. 

Time distorted in the chaos, each moment felt both fast and slow, like a surreal dance of violence. Inmates from various corners of the room stood, forming unexpected alliances and taking sides. To my surprise, amidst the turmoil, I discovered that I had allies – individuals willing to stand with me in the midst of the commotion.

Amid the whirlwind of pulling, dragging, and hitting, my mind stubbornly clung to the recent conversation I had with Michael. His words echoed in my head, providing a strange contrast to the physical blows raining down upon me. It was as if the mental and physical realms were engaged in an off key duet. Then they came, the guards, swinging and hitting the inmates as they pleased in the guise of trying to break up the fight. Captain Tight pants, seemingly on a deliberate mission, sought me out. With a calculated precision, dealt the final blow that landed on my neck, a brutal force that left me incapacitated. The aftermath was a surreal stillness, a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded just moments before. I was helped up by two guards as Sonia and I were dragged into solitary.

The solitude of the solitary confinement offered the much-needed break I longed for, a brief sanctuary for my thoughts to roam free. However, this silence was a double-edged sword, marred by the lingering and intense pain throbbing through my body, a cruel reminder of the merciless beatings inflicted by the guards.

In the suffocating silence, I became extremely aware of the discomfort, each ache a testiment to the violence I had endured. 

As I lay there, lost in the abyss of my thoughts, the pain acted as a gateway to a disorienting slump. The world around me blurred, and I found myself submerged in a realm of feverish delirium. Shivers coursed through my weakened body as I closed my eyes, the involuntary wince accompanying each pulsating throb of agony. I revisited the memory of one of the leisurely strolls Michael and i took. it was always so clear that michael  and i were never shy about public displays of affection. In every setting and at every moment, we effortlessly found ways to touch, whether through holding hands, hugging, or kissing.

On this particular occasion, we walked down a lengthy road in the college, enveloped by trees shedding their leaves in the early December chill. Thoughtful as always, he had brought along a sweater to ward off the increasing cold. Amidst our conversation about seemingly mundane topics that brought laughter to us both, we reached a secluded spot. Here, shielded from prying eyes, we decided to playfully stand with our backs touching each other, bend down with our heads going in between our legs, and share a kiss. The sheer absurdity of the moment filled the air with laughter, creating a memory that felt uniquely ours.

As our lips touched, I suddenly found myself lying face up in the infirmary, connected to IV fluids, my wounds cleaned and bandaged.