THE INMATE

LEO CLARK

Clark’s POV

"Mr. Leo Clark, you are found guilty by this court, and hereby sentenced to eight years in California State Prison, with an additional five years enhancement under California Penal Code Section 1203.065 — making your total sentence thirteen years without the possibility of parole."

Those were the judge’s words thirteen years ago, when Victoria had accused me of rape. I thought everything was over. I thought time itself paused. But it didn’t. Not even my first night in prison gave me the shock I expected—nothing there felt like home.

But now I’m out. And somehow, prison feels like the only real home I’ve ever known. At least there, you don't run into fake friends—or girls like Victoria. That girl is a real bitch. I won’t stop until I get revenge. Not because I’m broken, but because I need to go back—to my homies, my cell, my world.

And my father? I don't even know how to go see him. It's been a long time, I wish I could get a little tip to probably transport myself back home. I should have placed a call across to Anthony.

And just seconds after my little wish, this tiny voice echoed.

“Hey, hi—”

“Hey,” I cut in, glancing up at the woman standing in front of me.

“Sorry to disturb. I’m Isabella Santiago. You… uh… inmate?”

“Ex.”

“What?” she blinked, confused.

“Ex-inmate. I just got out. Can I help you?”

I knew I sounded rude for a sec, but I wasn’t about to play nice—not with her, not with anyone. Not even her beauty can charm me.

“Oh. Good news then! You must be—”

“What do you want?” I let out annoyed, my voice was sharper than before. Her face flushed with irritation, but she covered up a little with a smile, then continued with her demand.

“I need your help. My brother—he—”

“I’m no cop. I can’t help you.” I rudely answered, then turned and walked off without a second glance.

Somehow, after that incident, I knew I had become numb. I didn’t feel pity anymore—especially not for women. Everyone, every shadow, felt like a threat.

It's already 8:00 p.m., and I'm still stuck on this street. I didn’t even know where I’d sleep, I've been walking around the street for the past one hour, yet no morale to even ask someone for help. My stomach growled so loudly that passersby kept staring at me.

damn! I was hungry,

A little turn in a sharp corner, I wasn't really looking, then I bumped into this dude with some of his friends.

“Yo, knock it off,” he snapped, annoyed.

“What the hell?! You just knocked over my freaking pizza!” He let out annoyed, His voice was loud, dramatic. My hands stayed in my pockets, but my mind itched to break his nose. I wanted to apologise, but the SORRY was too heavy for me to say. I only glanced dumb at his fallen pizza.

“Yo! Dude, aren't you going to apologize?” he thundered, then approached for a fight.

“Hey, let him go. What do you want?” a voice interrupted, standing in front of me, with hands widely spread in defense.

“Better stay out of this, lady,” he growled, snapping her hands off.

Just then, I looked at the lady in my defense.

It was her—the girl from the prison.

Was she stalking me?

I watched her pull out some cash and handed it over.

“Just take the money and leave him alone,” she said, slightly annoyed.

“You’ve got some luck today, bro,” the guy hissed, grabbing the money from her. “You better thank her, you've got some luck” The dude said, then jogged off with his crew.

“You should stay out of trouble,” she mumbled, locking her gaze onto mine.

“Why are you stalking me?” I snapped, a little rudely.

“Stalking you? Really?” she scoffed, irritably eyeing me. “That’s your thank you? Dude, you’ve got a nasty attitude. Go get a life.”

She hissed, then angrily walked away.

I didn’t know how to call her back, I knew I had to say something, watching her step away, kind of struck me with a slight guilt. But beyond that, I wanted something more.

“H—ey,” I finally let out in my low, dying tone.

She stopped, instantly turning to face me. “What?” she barked, piercing her gaze deep into mine.

“Can I… sleep over at your place? I’m kinda stranded.” I stammered.

I was trying to be polite. Honestly. But the way she rolled her eyes and walked away, just while I was still talking?

Damn! That hit harder than prison bars.

Victoria was mean, but not this cold. I don’t miss her—but somehow… I miss her meekness.

Almost immediately, her voice angrily snapped through the air.

“How long are you gonna stay?”

“As long as you’ll let me.” I whispered, a little relieved.

“What? Don’t you have a family? Friends…?”

“You know what, never mind.” I angrily blurted out, my voice was full of ice, I was really pissed and in these little minutes, I just seem to despise everything about her.

Still annoyed, I turned to walk away. I wasn't about to let some stranger remind me of my past.

“Hey, wait”. She said sympathically, while running to catch up with me. “Umm… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” she continued, holding the hem of my dress

“I'm sure you do, you all are all the same, you don't have to pretend I will find somewhere to lay my head tonight”. I mumbled.

“You don't have to be angry, besides, you are about to walk past my house, I was  only…” She paused, then gave me a strange look as the police siren approached.

“If I were you, I wouldn't even think twice now. We should get in before the cops get you” She said, a little sympathetic, I wasn't going to take the chances anyways.

“So you leave here?”. I mumbled, glaring at the house one more time.

“Yeah, is it so tacky for you to get in?” she smacked.

“Tacky?! Well… if you say so”. I reluctantly let out.

“You are so rude and I hate it that I'm actually helping you”. She hissed.

“What is going on here?”. A cop interrupted from behind

“Umm… no—”

“Sorry to have disturbed, my girlfriend and I were just having a little misunderstanding, but we are good now”. I said with speed, she was in total shock. The officer gave us a slight nod, then smiled and walked away.

“What?!”. I mumbled, watching her give me a weird look. But she said nothing, just some funny exclamations.

“What are you looking for?” I mumbled concerned, as she stood in front of the door for like seconds.

“My ke—ys?” she shuttered, then I took in a deep breath, then directed my head to her hands. “ Aren't that the Key or you've got another one?”

“Ow! Sorry. I must have been a little out of my body for a minute” She said, finally opening the door.

As soon as I stepped in, she shut the door, then gave me a deadly stare.

“What?” I murmured confused.

“Let me make this clear. I don't like you, I wasn't stalking you, that shouldn't give you the impression that I—Isabella Santiago would want to date you. You don't address me as your girlfriend next time… okay?”

Her breath was heavy, I almost smiled, but I walked myself to the sofa, sat quietly.

“Noted”. I eventually whispered after a deep breath, while looking around the room.

“Noted? Is that all you’ve got to say?!” she snapped, clearly annoyed.

Honestly, I felt she was being too dramatic. Tomorrow, she’d probably wake up and not find me in this hole of a house.

“What are you staring at? Aren’t you going to say something?” She barked.

“Can you just show me my room?” I let out rudely.

She froze, mouth agape like she needed someone to stuff dough in it.

“Are you freaking kidding me?!” she shouted, throwing her bags on the sofa, while resting her hands on her waist. “Like are you freaking kidding me right now dude?” she continued.

“If I knew you nagged this much, I wouldn’t have asked for your help.” I mumbled irritably, trying not to meet eyes with hers.

“Really? Now I’m the bad one here, yeah?! Dude, I freaking saved you from those guys, and you can’t even say thank you?”

She said with annoyance, tossing her hands like she was about to go on a fight with someone.

“Is that what this drama is all about?” I lazily said, shuffling my head annoyed.

“What?! Jeez… Nigga got some—”

“Thank you,” I rudely interrupted, hoping that would get her to stop yelling. Honestly, my head was beginning to bang.

“What did you say?!” She mocked.

“I said thank you. Now, can you kindly tell me where to lay my head?” I exhaled, completely drained.

“I’ve got one apartment. You either sleep here, which is my sitting room or on the floor in the room, because there is no way I’m letting you sleep on the same—”

“Where’s your room?” I interrupted again.

That did it.

She stormed up to me, glaring into my eyes like she wanted to pluck them out.

“Why do you keep interrupting me?!” she hissed, searching my eyes ridiculously.

“I’m sorry. I’m just too tired for a long talk.” I calmly said.

“Oh, now I talk too much?” she yelled, her voice increasingly annoying.

I lost my patience, I took a deep breath and turned away. Just as I got close to the door, a flash light from outside caught my eye.

The cops were still hanging around.

I paused, then turned to look at Isabella who was almost about to laugh at me.

“Oh wow, you're scared now, boo?” she whispered. “You should go. I’m sure they’ll whoop your damn ass and have you thrown to jail again.” She let out a twisted laugh.

My stomach rumbled.

She paused, eyes narrowing her eyes to my stomach. “Are you hungry?”

I didn’t answer. Frustrated, I just collapsed onto the couch again.

“Hey. I’ve got some pasta. If you’re hungry, you don’t have to act all tough,” she said, this time calmer. Kinder.

I opened my eyes to look at her. I wanted to say no, to reject the offer, but my stomach betrayed me—it rumbled again.

“You see? Your stomach agrees. I’ll go get it for you,” she said, then hurried off.

I placed my hand on my belly. It wouldn’t stop rumbling until she called me to the dining table.

It wasn't such a fancy place, but I managed to have my stomach fed.

“It’s so yummy and tasty. Come have a taste,” she said, standing up to pull my hands, after she noticed I had stood for long.

“T—ha…”. I paused, glaring into her smiley face, like she has waited forever for this moment.

“I was going to tell you earlier... I have no interest in you. So, don’t do all this just to get my attention,” I eventually said.

I watched her instantly drop my hand, and the smiley face disappeared immediately.

“YOU—ARE—UNBELIEVABLE,” she spelled out, then stormed off to her room.

After watching her leave, I sat and quietly ate the pasta. It was good—so good that I wanted more. But I didn’t want to be called a thief for opening someone else’s pot.

Eventually, I found my way around the house and stood outside what was clearly her bedroom.

Gently, I knocked on the door.

“What?!” she barked angrily, then flung the door open.

“Can I come in?” I mumbled.

She rolled her eyes and stepped aside for me to go in.

“The floor’s cold,” she muttered, tossing me a duvet. “Use that.”

I managed to place the duvet in a corner. The floor was indeed cold, I couldn't even ask for something else, I only laid on my back, and just a few minutes later, she tossed and turned on the bed, sighing loudly, like something was bothering her. I was about to ask her,

Then—

“Hey,” she snapped, sticking her head out of the bed.

“Yeah?” I answered coldly.

“Are you allergic to saying thank you or something?” She whispered, then breathed with relief.

“I just don’t usually see the need. Are you addicted to hearing it?” I said.

Then she angrily jumped out of bed.

“You mean to tell me you don’t see the need to say THANK YOU?!” She snapped.

“You don’t have to yell,” I said, in a low, calm voice. “And yes. It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

She stared at me for a long moment, then angrily climbed back into bed.

A few hours after she dozed off, she began snoring.

Honestly, I was pissed. Not even sleep could give me a break from her.

I tried to cope. I really did. But just as I closed my eyes—

BOOM!

She started yelling in her sleep.

“Let me go! Please stop!”

After a few seconds, she whispered something I couldn’t make out… and went quiet again.

—————

“Hey. Wake up, you sleepy head,” I heard her say, after a gentle kick.

I groggily opened my eyes. Her face hovered close, like I’d dropped something on her carpet.

“Good morning,” I mumbled.

“Good morning. I’m heading out for a jog. Care to join me?”

“Nah, I’ll pass. I just want to sleep,” I said and rolled over.

I figured she left. But then I opened my eyes again… and she was right there, staring at me.

“What?!” I asked, confused.

“What do you mean?” she replied, still glaring.

“Did I say something?”

“Were you ever planning to stop drumming? You almost pulled down my house!” she yelled.

I blinked, looking around confused.“What drum?” I whispered tiredly.

“There isn’t any drum, genius. But you were snoring so loud, I couldn’t even think!” she mocked.

“Maybe if YOU didn’t open your mouth and snored like a faulty generator, I would’ve probably slept better,” I mumbled, watching her eyebrows furrow.

“I—I don’t snore. Jimmy never complained,” she muttered.

“Maybe Jimmy didn’t want to hurt your feelings. You snore, sis. I wish you could just—”

“Nah, nah—this ain’t happening. I’m not about to stand here and be blamed in my own damn apartment,” she cut in. “My house. My rules. My—my—my life.”

She stuttered, then paused and looked at me.

“Breakfast is ready,” she added, then walked away.

Breakfast? I didn’t even know she liked me enough to offer me food again.

“After you”. I whispered, before she stepped out.

---

I freshened up and joined her at the dining table. She seemed absent minded, just going through her phone and after I called her name, she jerked in shock.

“Are those tears?” I asked, noticing her watery eyes.

“Tears?” she repeated, forcing a laugh. “Hell no. I don’t cry. I’m just… um…”

“You don’t have to lie or hold onto pain,” I said, picking up a slice of toast.

“Ever been hurt so badly you don’t even see the point in forgiving, loving, or caring anymore?” she whispered, and finally… the tears dropped.