there's a knife in my hand
i just stabbed someone.
i dont know why. i just know that i had to do it. something virtuous in me had to make that plunge. its not long until im arrested. i know how long they hold people in these kind of cases before having a trial. ive never even set foot in a jail before. thoughts start sinking. ive heard about what happens to people like me in prison. im going to get eroded so quickly. im going to break so soon. this is the point of no return.

i know theres going to be a lot of people who support what i did. theres already news coverage, movements starting. america's culture war might be exacerbated to a tipping point. but none of that affects me now. im cut off from all of that. all i know are these new cell grounds and the people in it. im so scared of what they could be, what they could do to me that i forget that we have more in common than anyone else outside. the cell im in is unconventional- chainlink fences for walls welding a pretty tight room. my surroundings are a vast courtyard. im connected to a few other small chainlink rooms by narrow chainlink hallways where the other prisoners in holding are. there's about 6. i meet them briefly as i get loaded in. some of the incumbent prisoners have decorated their chainlink fences with pictures, memorabilia. one such decorator, Yonas, a lanky but sturdy man about 6 inches taller than me with a few weeks old shaved head and a bit of a protruding brow has various video game memoribilia hung up carefully in his section. i recognize the series he shows off- we bond over them briefly. he strikes me as nerdy, but a bit unstable. i plan on being friendly but cautious with him.

we arent confined to our rooms all the time, as the connected hallways are free to explore. there isnt much to roam, though. all they lead to are the other cells and a small central connecting room just a few feet's distance. it provides me more space away from the tight chainlink than my compressed cell if i sit right in the center of this room, so i like to spend most of my time there as i can. there isnt much to do besides sit and think, sit and dream. luckily, im very good at both of those things. creating a world in my head to retreat to for some sense of comfort. amidst my despair, conjuring up any form of hope is entertainment. makes the time go by meaningfully. keeps me busy. dreaming up worlds to get lost in is as significant as prayer to me.

i dont really see the other prisoners much. i am alone. that is , until someone familiar turns the corner and walks into the small lobby i spend most of my days in. it's you! i lose my breath im so shocked to see you. what did you even do to end up in here? i dont think i ever find out, nor care to know much. im just so happy you're here. you take me back to your cell to regain a sense of privacy, although the choice of material used for our walls doesnt provide us with much. we arent concerned with filling each other in on how we got caught up with the law. what's more important is making the most of our mutual company. with each other, its surprising how quickly we forget we're in a holding facility. any environment becomes one to uninhibit the extent of our social natures together.

you do find it important to tell me that you've made a boyfriend during your time on the inside- Yonas. i find myself rather impressed with how youve managed to make a companion in such an oppressive environment. its not unlike you to be this resiliant when it comes to your social and intimate needs. Yonas then joins us in your room. immediately, i see the possesiveness in his eyes. he quite likes you- moreso, he's proud of having you. i become a little concerned if he knows the details of you and i's relationship. our history of closeness, our shared intimacy. our desire to uphold this. i do also come to terms that you cant exactly pick and choose the people you meet in this kind of place. companionship is what you needed, and companionship is what Yonas gives you. you didnt know i was coming, you didnt know youd be granted the luxury to share more than one companion in a place like this. we both recognize that its probably safer for yonas not to know the extent of our relationship, to just see us as friends. but whenever he's not around, in the mess hall or the work room, away from our cell areas, we hold each other.

i spend most of my time during imprisonment in your cell. you've made more of a home of it than my freshly filled one. Yonas often comes in and out to see you, and i become used to his presence. he's a little less friendly to me than when we first bonded over his nerdy decor, though. uneasy, tense. is he jealous im here? im just your friend from the outside world to him, nothing more. maybe thats enough to make him paranoid. during one particular visit, Yonas asks you to come up from your bed to talk to him by the door.

im reclining in one of the corners of your room, as ive gotten used to. its a place ive made decently comfortable. i watch you two speak but i cant make out what is being said. i dont really mind, even if Yonas looks like hes saying something rather important. it's with that same sense of urgency that his fist collides with your face. hard. the force knocks you to the floor and before you can respond, there's blood pouring from your cheek. this isnt the first time ive seen you hurt- this isnt even the first time ive seen someone hurt you. my own two hands have been the perpetrators. but that was when you asked me to hit you, to hurt you. in the bed, in someplace safe. it was to explore sides of our intimacy unknown to us, to see the depths of how we could feel in each other's presence. it was scary- risky, even, but ultimately underscored by a deep sense of security between the two of us. ive never seen you hurt the way Yonas hurt you only moments ago. theres nothing safe about this. you would cry when i hit you, which you told me was a desired release of emotion, but theres no reaction on your face now besides pure shock. there isnt anything but pure shock on mine, too. i sit frozen in my corner of the room. all the effort i had spent curating this corner as a comfortable, warm spot for me to live in vanished. my corner was now icy cold. Yonas hits you again. your eyes are swollen. cheeks gushing red. hair unkempt as it lays ragged across the floor. i think about getting up and hitting Yonas back. i know it would achieve nothing besides getting overpowered and beaten myself, but i think about it. this scenario doesnt become anything more than a thought as the emotionless Yonas leaves the room.

my mind is a slurry. i want to get you out of here. i want to take you someplace safe. what can i even do inside these walls? what power do i have? i hardly even think about why im in here anymore, the crime i committed, the response the outside world had. my act could have incited a revolution and i wouldnt even really care. in your presence, none of that mattered to me. your cell felt like home, and i felt safe here. i think about holding you. its the least amount of comfort i could provide while you lay there, battered. but even then , im still frozen. after your beating, nothing i could think to do with you feels safe anymore. the dread and punishment embedded in the chainlink walls seep back into me. you're right in front of me, but i miss you more in this moment than i have ever before in my life.