2. | just one glance

After the torture disguised as a friendly introduction that I've had to endure for way longer than is considered healthy, Oliver notices my pleading eyes.

"Ryan," he turns towards my father as he continues, "Is it alright if I show her around the place?"

"Reed," my dad turns around to face us again, his hand lingering on the waist of a female that is yet unknown to me, "I thought it would be nice if Kimberly showed her around. You know, as one of the few women in this place, I think that'd make sense."

Oliver falls silent and my eyes fall upon the woman, who seems to be much younger than my father. She seems nice, honestly, I don't really want to judge her right away. But seriously though, she could get way better than my dad and I'm not just talking about his age. This man is difficult, that's all I can say to sum it up.

"Oh, I would love to." Kimberly immediately replies, her eyes becoming slightly smaller as a smile is plastered on her face. She seems like she's quite genuine, once again making me wonder what exactly she sees in my dad to get closer to him.

"Thanks Kimberly," I reply, remaining friendly, "But I think it would be nice if Oliver showed me around, so you two can continue chatting."

Without giving them the time to reply, I already start walking towards the door after glancing back with another forced smile. Oliver still remains silent as he catches my pace and we start walking.

"How did you even do that?" He slightly grins as his curious, warm brown eyes look down to meet mine. I hadn't noticed his height before, but he's not that much taller than me and has a firm build. He looks like a guard that's not that experienced, which makes sense since he looks like the youngest one in here. Realizing that I'm not the only one that's still young and learning, I motivate myself to not let the nerves get to me.

"Do what?" I ask while breaking eye contact and letting my eyes wander around the corridor we're currently walking in. "Remain friendly while blowing people off you mean?"

He lets out a chuckle as we enter the entrance once again, "Teach me your ways." he says as his hand wanders down his belt, taking his keys and keycard into his hand.

"If—" I hold up a finger and turn around to look at him, "you teach me how the hell I'm going to survive months in this place. Months."

"Deal." He gives my shoulder a friendly yet quite awkward pat as he leads me into the main hall after opening it with his keycard.

"Most of the time a guard will guide you through the day and your sessions, but I will try to get you a keycard too. That way it'll be easier for you." He reassures without me having to ask him.

As we walk into the main hall, I look around me and try to memorize the things Oliver is telling me. I hear lots of noises coming from above and look up, noticing all the cells. It looks like there are about six floors in this area and the cells on each floor are placed in a circle. As expected, there's barely any color to find between the greyness of the bars, walls and floors. I didn't expect it to be colorful, but I'd be depressed too in such a grey environment.

"Oliver, how many main halls are there in total?" I ask as I remember how large the prison looked from outside of the fence surrounding it. This main hall can't be the only one.

"We have ten main halls. And you can call me Reed! Everyone calls me by my last name so I'm used to it." he follows my gaze around the place and makes a gesture indicating I should continue following him.

This place is absolutely huge and as more information gets unlocked, I feel my hands getting sweaty. I quickly wipe them off on my thighs.

"Is everyone just randomly placed or is everyone around... you know, their own kind of criminals?"

"You'd think so but no, every floor and every department has its diversity. There's a variety of abusers, thieves, rapists and murderers. Some are new, some have been here since before you and I were born." he answers my curiosity.

That's honestly mind-blowing, thinking back to how many things I've done in this lifetime of mine. Things that I'm proud of. I've also been through years of things that I still can't speak about. I cannot even fathom how it'd be to spend that, all of those years, in this place. I chose to remain silent and not bombard him with all of my questions at once and follow him up the stairs to the first floor.

"We have 3832 inmates in total, which is actually not that much considering the fact that there are nearly a hundred thousand inmates in the state of California." He continues to inform me about the basic stuff.

Before he can carry on, another question pops up. "Since the death penalty is allowed in California, there must be a death row here as well, right?"

I've watched dozens of death row documentaries and their stories always leave me in awe. I'm well aware that there are many cases of innocent people that have been wrongfully executed or have spent years of their life in death row, getting saved right in time. I've also signed many petitions to help those who have been wrongfully convicted based on their race, with no decisive evidence at all.

"We do have a death row indeed, but you've probably heard that the last execution that took place was in 2006." Reed tells me as I nod.

"Yeah, I read that. I'm honestly glad, it's better to keep someone inside for a lifetime and grand them a chance to make peace with themselves and ask for forgiveness, instead of giving them the easy way out with an injection."

Reed looks at me in a way that tells me he does not agree with me, but he does not comment on it. However, I don't want to drop the subject yet.

"How many inmates are on death row?"

"Only 28." We start walking alongside the cells, yet I keep looking either to the ground or at Reed. I do not want to draw unnecessary attention but as expected, the inmates are starting to notice my foreign face, not helping my nerves.

Some get to their feet and lean to the bars. Some start catcalling, some even start banging their fists on the bars to make noise and gather even more attention.

Reed quickly takes out his baton, a roughly cylindrical club made of rubber and metal. It is carried as a compliance tool and defensive weapon by law-enforcement officers, correctional staff, security guards and military personnel. I've seen the other guards wear it too. He harshly strikes one of the bars with it in order to get them to keep the noise down, making me jump at its roughness.

The inmates mainly calm down, only a few whispers and whistles continue but I somehow manage to ignore it.

In silence, he leads me around the first main hall and its floors and we end up in a quiet canteen with coffee in our hands. We talk about various subjects. While I'm trying to get to know more about the prison, its history and the inmates, Reed manages to lead the conversation in a more personal direction.

I'm something in between and introvert and an extrovert so it's not like I end up choking on air when answering questions about me and life in general. Nevertheless, I do not enjoy talking about myself to others, especially to someone who I've just met. This may also be the reason I barely have anything special or any romance going on in my life but I'm not complaining.

Not at all.

Reed has told me about how he's 24 years old and started working here about a year ago. He also told me about his obsession and ambitiousness towards working out frequently and that he's a dog person.

Like I said, the conversation is kind of random but I'm just glad I've at least gotten the chance to meet and befriend one of the guards on my first day.

Breaking the few second silence that fell upon us as I wandered off into my thoughts, I direct the conversation in a more professional way, once again. "So those inmates in death row; there's not going to be an execution anytime soon, right?" I'm pretty sure the answer will be a no, but my curiosity just wants to make sure.

"Actually, there are two serious trials that the governor is personally trying to fasten." He answers to my surprise.

Two serious death row cases are being sped up. That's quite rare and I'm surprised it's not all over the news yet.

"You didn't know...?" He asks as if it's the weirdest thing in the world that I'm unaware of this. "You don't know."

I look at him with new question marks all over my mind and lightly chuckle the sudden tension away. "Was I supposed to know?"

"Yeah, no, actually no, not at all." He recovers himself as he gets up to his feet to gather our empty cups. "I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot how everyone and everything in here is still foreign to you. I'll tell you more later."

Even though his current demeanor screams oddness, I stick to saying nothing. After offering me a friendly smile and throwing away our cups, we start walking back.

I realize how I'd like to know more about the death row and the inmates in general and I'm getting excited to start my first few therapy sessions later tonight.

We do not walk around the other nine main halls and its floors with cells, but Reed tells me that it looks the same as the first one that he showed me around. The only differences are the inmates and the numbers on the cell doors.

In order to get back to the canteen in which we left my father, Kimberly and some other guards, we have to walk through the first floor of the main hall again. Only this time from the opposite direction towards the other door that we did not walk through before. The inmates notice us again and start making some noise. Reed throws them a warning look, making them keep it low as we walk through.

We reach the end of the floor in a quick pace and Reed opens the door to another corridor as something, someone else catches my attention. Every single inmate in every cell was being noisy but this one seems like an exception. Thinking it might me empty, I find myself looking for a name tag on the door.

E. D. WILFORD

After reading the name, I can't help myself but peer through the bars to see a guy sitting on his bed with his back against the grey wall. The bed is merely three feet away from where I'm standing but he's clearly not bothered by my presence, maybe not even noticing me as he seems to be sketching.

I find myself following his movements with intrigued eyes, wandering off in the way he swiftly moves the pencil over the paper as he's completely focused on the drawing only. His moves are hasty yet calming. His blonde locks are tousled over his eyes and the shadow of the bars flickers across his face and his features as the golden hour sun shines from behind me.

I feel my breath hitch when the stranger looks up and meets my eyes for the first time. He does not move, nor does he speak. He drops the pencil, yet he does not move to pick it up. At that moment it feels as if everything around me vanishes for a second. Just one glance into this mysterious guy's eyes and I find myself lost in it. Lost in the forest greenness of them, it surrounds me, I can feel it.

Eyes are the mirror of the soul, they say. I've never seen any clear yet inexplicable mirror like this one. I've never felt like someone could tell me they've been carrying a heavy weight too, within just a few seconds of our eyes locking. I've never wanted to explore a foreign forest this bad, forgetting about the possible dangers lying within it.

"Brooklyn?" Reed calls my name, shaking me out of the trance and making me realize I've completely lost myself in that single moment while Reed had called my name multiple times.

My cheeks turn a rosy red as I take a step back, noticing that the stranger from behind bars is just as shook at this sudden interaction as I am. He takes the pencil that he had dropped and places it against the paper like an artist that just had a glimpse of the model for their art.

He just stares at me, not breaking the eye contact as I turn around and quickly follow Reed through the door. Goosebumps are still all over me and a foreign feeling that I've never experienced before lingers on every single part of me.

That's when our eyes met for the first time.

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A/N; hi lovelies, i genuinely wonder if i still have any readers left. i understand if many of you stopped reading because of my inactiveness. i really do get it, though i hope i can earn your trust and enthusiasm back.

thanks for reading, i hope you enjoyed.

please don't forget to vote & comment, i really enjoy reading every single one of them.

— lyra b.