Bonnie - Flash Fiction
CW: short non-graphic mentions of blood and death. It's a dumb little prison story I wrote for a Creative Writing class.
I wake up with a bang and bump my head on the ceiling. Before I can take the Lord’s name in vain, someone shushes me.
“Can’t you see I’m trying to hear what they’re arguing about?”
“Sorry, Bonnie.” I whisper back.
That’s my roommate. Eileen Bonnie O’Conner. She’s a short nineteen year old with bright golden eyes and a pretentious smile who recently got twelve years for killing her parents as well as her sister. She is also knocked up.
“I know you stole it, scar face!”, TJ shouts.
I lay my head back down and let the pillow embrace me.
“Bonnie, can you turn off the TV?” I ask ironically but hear nothing back.
The girls next to us are still going at it. Same old, same old. TJ claims Sam stole her toothbrush. In return, she yells: “Stop screaming, you paranoid bitch”. That’s when I hear a back breaking slam into the wall. And soon the sound of boots stomping run towards the cell next to us. Same old, same old.
I know she did it.
Bonnie.
I mean, look at the girl! She’s laughing her ass off just as Officer Kelly takes TJ into solitary. Ain’t no harm on a petty girl that killed her family, I suppose. Either way I’m staying far away from any inmate drama. In a couple of hours, I’ll be gone.
I’m leaving. Going home.
A few ticks on the wall, some clicks on the clock and I’m out. For good. No more favors, no more slip ups. No more waking up drenched in sweat in a hospital bed with little to no recollection of what got me there. No more cold showers or nasty rat meals. I’m out. For good.
After lunch, Bonnie is already asleep.
I feel the the soft vibration of heavy boots against the floor, calmly making their way up to me, getting closer to the cell door. And in that moment I return to the same girl I was when I first got arrested. Trembling, frightened and deeply impatient.
“Lucky girl, it’s your turn!” he grabs me by the arm and repeats the same speech he’s given every other girl. Stay clean, don’t mess up. But to be honest I couldn’t care less about his rehearsed theatrics or forced empathy. I’m getting out. For good.
So when I hear a scream down the hall, I don’t pay much mind to it. Only when I see a stretcher sprint towards us and pass us right by do I get a sick feeling in my stomach.
Within the murmurs, between the click, clack of the nurses’ shoes and the rushing and shushing of the staff… I felt someone touch my arm. Bonnie is halfway through the hall but her screams echo in my brain.
“Fucking bitch! She did it!” Bonnie cries. “She killed my baby!”
I hear some shouts and suddenly the prison is awfully quiet. Kelly forcibly takes my stiff hesitant body back and I let myself be thrown inside the cell again. My hands, hurt from banging and pounding against the door, slide down into my knees - where I cry.
Beside the bed is the toothbrush, red as blood. And a note: “You would have missed me.”