MARKING TIME
A thought back to the day he first walked down the straight narrow hall on the tier where his cell was. Tommy was no stranger to these walls. He’d been here before and to other places just like it. No fun-uh-uh, Not at all. This time it was different though, and he really couldn’t talk with anybody about it because for sure they would think he was crazy. Not just jail house crazy but really crazy. Like some wacko off of the lock up tier for the criminally insane, which meant just about every one in the place including most of the guards. Sometimes they were the worst. Heck, as an inmate you had to be there.You broke the law, got busted, sent up, end of story. Finito. Not with these guards though. They were in it for the money and I’m not talking big money now but just , you know a regular job with benefits, vacations, sick days, holidays off and if you stick it out long enough even a pension or something like that. Security they call it. Hey, you get that-security, they found security in their work by working in security. Well, maybe it was a little funny but it wasn’t that funny.
Tommy still felt it was different this time. He knew it was different. He heard it was different – through the walls – he heard it. Tommy, Tommy. You know who this is Tommy. Oh yeah, it was different this time all right.
Tommy had been in and out of youth homes since he was thirteen. Don’t kid yourself they were jails alright, just for younger people. Lot’s of small stuff; gang fights, stealing cars, some grass, acid, uppers, downers. That type of thing, but, this time it was different. When he heard that low, gutteral voice almost in a whisper, he almost fell off of his cot. It was loud enough for him to hear clearly yet low enough to be almost a whisper. Creepy. He knew he heard it though.(tommy…tommy). What was that. Naw. I’ve got to be dreaming ,having a nightmare. Yeah that’s it. (tommy…tommy…where oh where did you bury me).W-w-wait (tommy-did you bury me underthe apple tree). N-no. I mean I don’t know, of course not, I didn’t bury anyone, I swear! (tommy…tommy…you buried me under the apple tree). Oh man, this can’t be happening. Hey, Tommy. You okay in there? Yeah sure Officer Burton, sure. Just coming off an old nightmare is all.
When Synapses Go Bad 