Fish: A Memoir of a Boy in Man's Prison by T. Parsell (ready to read books TXT) 📕

once said about a fight we had with a gang of kids. He said it right in front of me, like I wasn't even there. I was too timid to stand up to him and say anything, so I just let it go. But I didn't really-his words still hurt.

I kept replaying Chet's advances over and over. I thought I knew what his intentions were, but I was taken by how friendly he was, and by the fact that he said he had a kid my age. That was probably a lie. After the coin toss, I had seen him laughing with other inmates about the rape. He was bragging and imitating how out of it I was because of the Thorazine. He seemed energized by the incident, as if it raised his standing with the other guys. The way he set me up and turned me out. That's what they called it when someone is raped. I "turned that boy out."

That's what happened to Bottoms, the chubby kid in my dorm. He was straight, or at least he was before he got locked up. He was turned out in the county jail, right after sentencing for stealing his dad's car. Car theft wouldn't have been enough to send him there, but he had an accident where someone died and he was convicted of felony murder. The poor kid didn't even make it to Quarantine before he was jumped and gang raped by sixteen guys, over a six-hour period. When they were done with him, the guy that set him up pimped him out for a pack of cigarettes. By the time he came there, everyone knew what happened to him, and he was forced to get a man. That's how he got the name Bottoms. It used to be Byron. There were dozens of stories just as gruesome, sometimes even worse.

I looked over at the double fence and gun towers. There was no escape. I would do what I had to survive in here. But what if my family found out? I was afraid Rick would just see the attack for what it was: I got what I deserved. It felt awful being so viciously assaulted and believing that I was responsible for it. And it felt almost worse knowing that Rick would agree with me.

Were it not for all the pain I was feeling after Chet fucked me, I might have enjoyed sucking Red's cock-at least until he made me gag and I threw up. I wished it been Scatter. He was so beautiful, and was also my age. His light brown skin. That muscular body. Those lips. I hated the way Red kept saying, "he's gay-he likes it."

I)id this mean I wasn't a man anymore? I could never explain the confusion that was going on inside my head. How could I explain it? That I had felt drawn here, or that I wanted to come to prison because it was the only place in the world where I knew there were people like me? Who would believe me? After all, they would think I was crazy. Maybe I was crazy. I felt responsible for what happened. "You made your bed," I heard Sharon's voice inside my head. Now I had to live with it. Was this my destiny?

I walked past I 1 Building, the bug ward, and reminded myself that I had a strong mind. That I would get past this prison term. I would do whatever I had to, and I wouldn't let my fear show. At least this way, I would feel like I had control. I tried to convince myself that this is what I had wanted. Maybe not in such a violent way, but I did secretly want to have sex with a man. Yes, this is what I had wanted. I was glad my sexuality was finally out and that I don't have to hide anymore. I felt detached-like I was outside of myself-watching it all on TV. I would put the bad part of what happened right out of my mind, just like my morn had done with us kids: we didn't exist-it never happened-I am going on with my life as if free from the burden of responsibility. Free from worrying about what they thinkbecause, in my mind, they never happened.

As I came around 9 Building the second time, a skinny blond queen named Cisco called out to me. I met him briefly, the day before, but I couldn't get away from him fast enough.

"Oh, Tim!" he waved wildly from the grass. He was sitting between two old white men. "Come over here, darling."

Cisco was in his late thirties, and the two men who were flanking him were each old enough to be my grandfather. Behind them, playing on a small black transistor radio was the Kendalls' "Heaven's Just A Sin Away."

"C'mon honey, come sit with Momma." He patted on the ground next to him. "You look all lost walking around the yard in a daze and all."

"I'm fine," I said. I was embarrassed by his attention. I just wanted to be alone for a while to sort things out in my head.

"I remember when I first came to paradise," he said. "You're gonna be fine, honey. A pretty young thing like you? You're gonna be just fine."

I didn't know Cisco. In spite of being embarrassed by his flamboyance, I liked how nice he was being. The first genuine expression of humanity I'd seen in prison. Maybe I could talk to him. The two older men looked on with smiles. I sat down on the grass, which was warm from the sun, but the earth beneath it was cold and damp. My state blues were already soiled.

"That's it," the old timer on the right said. "Come join us for a spell." He was holding a metal cup by the handle, and a can of Mountain Dew was resting in the grass. His teeth were yellow as was the D on