Chapter 5 Behind bars

Bradley's POV

The hallway was dimly lit, but I could make out two figures walking towards me. They looked like they were clothed in black.

As they advanced closer, one of them lit up a torch that shone brightly. I quickly raised my hands over my eyes to protect them from the direct light.

When my eyes adjusted, I saw they both hid their faces under masks. They were huge, tall, and held an intimidating aura.

I stood rooted on the spot and assumed the stance of someone ready to fight. If they think they can quietly do away with me then I would not be going down without a fight.

"We've been asked to move you", one of the masked men said, his voice deep and neutral.

"Who sent you?" I asked back.

"That doesn't matter, just come with us quietly", he replied.

I remained unmoved. Unfazed. I didn't trust these people.

"We don't have time for this", the other masked man said.

In the twinkle of an eye, he brought out something from his pocket. I couldn't quite make out what it was till it came in contact with my body.

Taser!

It left me immobilized and they quickly whisked me away. My body was not only weak but so was my mind. My eyelid became heavy and I embraced the darkness.

I woke up to the sound of a loud alarm and an object slamming against iron rails.

"On your feet boys!" a deep voice boomed.

I looked around and the place where I was, was different from where I was kept before. Then I suddenly remembered the previous night's encounter.

Why was I here?

Why did they send me here?

Something wasn't right and I couldn't quite place a finger on it.

This place here was a bit conducive for a cell-holding place. Just last night I was cramped with five others. Now, there's just me and another elderly man. He looked well-kept, like someone surrounded by mystery.

If I am not mistaken, he should be around my Father's age. His hair had a glowing gray to it-looking well taken care of.

There was a ceiling fan, a convenience restroom at the other end, a kitchen with some stack of groceries, and some books close to the bed of the man in the room with me.

It was just the two of us.

The beds weren't placed in a bunk. They were opposite each other.

It looked like a makeshift mini apartment of some sort but, compared to the cramped cell where I was last night, this was far better and presentable.

I was still looking round when the doors opened and the man stepped out. I stood still, without any particular reason.

The warden went round till he reached where we were.

"Inmate 7418...step out", his tone neutral with an expressionless face. I did and we formed a single file and were led to a hall.

The food served was different from yesterday's. Much more presentable and palatable.

I noticed that we were separated from other inmates and the food we were given was different from theirs.

I wondered why.

Suddenly, I noticed the other man who had rushed at my food yesterday was staring at me with wide eyes like he was in shock. He nudged another inmate sitting on the same table with him and pointed at me. He too, took on the form of one being shocked. Like they had just seen the 7th Wonder of the World.

This time, I was more dumbfounded than ever.

What is going on?

The man who was with me in the same room was sitting at another table, just three feet away from me. He was with men of his age, and they had a certain powerful aura. I had been in the company of wealthy and influential men and they held that same aura!

How is it possible that they looked different from the others in the prison? My intuition told me they could be some big shots, locked here for some crime.

One of them caught me staring and I quickly averted my gaze.

I might be wrong, but it looked as if they were assessing me-like I was familiar to them.

Their attention was drawn away from me when a young man of my age approached them-they adjusted themselves for him and He sat in their middle. The older men laughed with him, patted him, and ruffled his hair like a Father would do to his son.

They felt relaxed and lighthearted around him. It gave me the feeling I used to have when my father was still in control and swimming in wealth. Everyone wanted to associate themselves with me, they were fond of me. But as soon as everything was lost, they were gone, just like the wind.

After breakfast, we were led outside to work and get sunlight.

I noticed the wardens giving some inmates tedious jobs to do, but the people I had eaten with were allowed to choose whatever they wanted to do-if they wanted to do anything at all.

The guards didn't bother me much, and they were surprisingly respectful towards me. I wondered why but I didn't think much of it and just brushed it aside.

---

Two months had passed since I was sent here. With each passing day, I was losing the bits and pieces of myself-surely but slowly.

I was no longer identified as Bradley Ford, but as inmate 7148–having been stripped of my name and identity.

My parents couldn't visit as Dad had fallen ill again. I worried about him greatly because I knew everything happening now contributed to his heart problems. I only wished for him to get better and I hated the fact that I was stuck in here, not being able to do anything about it.

One Saturday morning, we weren't led out of the yard as usual. We were informed some people on community outreach were here to see us and give us supplies.

A man who I assumed to be the head of the group addressed us. Shortly after, fresh food and fruits were distributed.

I wasn't at all interested in what they did. It felt like empty gestures-but not until I saw a striking figure.

A young lady.

A brunette with a silver-streaked hairline running down the middle of her hair reaching the tips, like it was painted by an artist on purpose.

Her hair was long and full, reaching below her waist. It was unique, unlike anything I had ever seen before.

She looks to be in her early 20s and among the group of volunteers. She shared the items among the inmates, smiling as she did so.

I saw the unmistakable glow in their eyes as she made small talk with them-as if she'd known them from elsewhere.

Does she regularly come here? I asked myself. I don't know what stirred within me but I couldn't take my eyes off of her, and I couldn't wait till it got to my turn.

I was sure I'd never met her before but she felt so familiar.

Somehow, I was pissed at the way the other inmates looked at her with a lustful hint in their eyes-like she was a prize to be claimed.

My jaws clenched. I just wanted the men to stop staring at her!

Soon, it was my turn next. Our eyes locked in on each other and suddenly, something happened to my heart that it hadn't done in a long while.