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The Nightmare Is Always the Same

123

The nightmare is always the same.

"Get up!" A voice pierces through the ringing in my ears. "C'mon Mike! For fuck's sake, wake up!" My eyes flutter open. The ringing in my ears starts to subside, replaced by deafening gun shots. "Listen to me Mike!" The man kneeling above me screams frantically. "You've been hit son, right in the fucking stomach. Those fucking cunts outside have us surrounded!" As the man above me, Dylan his name, hoists me to my feet I become overwhelmed with a searing pain in the centre of my stomach. Holy fucking shit that hurts. "I have the money! Now let's get the fuck out of here!" He roars as he drags my half-conscious body toward the exit.

My feet are dragging, vision is blurry and focusing is impossible. I'm bleeding hard from my abdomen. "Mike brother hang on I'm getting you through this!" I'm not gonna make it. "I'll fucking kill you if you die here Mike!" No, I have to make it. I can see the back door, c'mon push! You can fucking make it. I can't hear anymore. Dylan's shouts are replaced by ringing, weapons discharging and whistles as bullets cut the air. We're gonna make it. Not far left. A splitting pain, a blinding light and I'm on the floor. Through twinkling stars I see Dylan is lying beside me. His head gushing red, opened up. "Don't you dare fucking move, you fucking piece of shit!" is the last thing I hear. And then I wake up.

A scream escapes by lips as the bang of the letter box opening sparks me awake. "Thompson!" A gruff voice echoed through the slit in the solid metal door. "Warden says you're getting a new bunkmate today. Now listen here I don't want any shit from you about it either. It's happening and it's just the way shit happens. So be ready in 15." The slit slammed shut and suddenly I was alone again. I lay back in my bunk, head resting on my sweat moistened pillow as the dream from last night came flooding back. Involuntarily I ran my fingers along the nub just beside my belly button.

Realisation dawned on me. Wait what!? What's this about a new bunkmate? I have a deal with the warden. I run his little import business for him and in return I get a nice percentage of the profits and my own cell, I thought to myself. My hand jumped back from my stomach as the pain struck again. That weasel better not be up to something.

Slowly, I clambered out of the top bunk and dropped to the ground. Routine took over. Bed made, teeth brushed, face and body cleaned and then dressed in dull, grey scrubs in almost record time. It was time to tidy my cell for my 'roommate'.

Now my cell wouldn't be the typical prison cell that most failed bank robbers would be accustomed to. My little deal with the warden had me raking in money, well, it had me raking in money by prison standards anyway and on top of that I got this really nice cell. It has its own shower (albeit with about 3 minutes of hot water), a small portable television with a few channels, a PS2, a working toilet and sink and my own little bunk bed. Hell I even had a table and chairs to eat at. It's as nice as prison cells can be, and I enjoy the privacy.

"Open cell 30!" The gruff voice yelled from the opposite side of the big, sturdy, metal door that holds me in my enclosure. A loud noise droned through the cellblock and the slammer swung open. The warden stepped through the barrier into my world for the first time in almost a year. Nobody came to my cell, unless it was to deliver food or deliver pain. As I have said before, I enjoy my privacy.

The warden wasn't exactly what you'd call a looker, by any stretch of the imagination. He was a short man, possibly 5'8" and plump, plump like a barrel was plump. Grey tufts of curls falling over his sharp face. A furry moustache completing the look. "Thompson," He said with a nod, his nasally voice as irritating as always. "Today we have a new bunk mate for you," A hint of a grin crossing his mousy face.

"Joe what the fuck are you talking about?" I reacted angrily, "You know we have a deal. I help you out, you help me out, and I get to keep my own cell. I don't want to share with no fuckin' junkie,"

I sighed. I had spent the first 4 month of my time in a cell with a heroin addict. At first he held his shit together but one night I awoke to find him standing over my bed, breathing heavily with a tourniquet strapped to his arm. Scariest shit I had ever seen! I decided there and then that I was getting my own cell. "Now if we could just talk about this I'm sure there's something else we could sort out," I pleaded, returning my mind to the matter at hand.

Joe dismissed my protests with a wave of his hand and began to pace around the stone box I called home. His eyes examining the pictures I had stuck around the room the entire time. I stood, rooted to the spot as the small walking barrel suddenly reached forward and pulled a photograph from the wall.

"Holy Shit Mike!" He squealed excitedly, turning the photograph in my direction, "Is this your wife?"

Opening my mouth to respond I was immediately cut off, "She's the type of woman I can get behind. If you know what I'm saying!" His laugh echoed in the cell and I bit my tongue, holding anger back. No point in getting worked up over the taunting of an idiot, I told myself, and instead managed an obviously fake smile.

"Anyway, back to the business at hand." He continued, "As you have already mentioned, we do have a deal. I am nothing if not a man of my word, Mr. Thompson. I would like to see our current arrangement continue for the foreseeable future." He sat on the unused bottom bunk and continued to admire the picture of my ex-girlfriend, Tina. "However, right now I'm in a predicament." He admitted, his eyes finally rose from the picture and he gave a slight chuckle.

My eyes quickly narrowed on the red faced man, examining him for hints. "Well as you know I am an important man around these parts." A cocky smile forming on his smile, "And I have important friends. One of these friends has a son... His son is a bit... shall we say... feminine." He mocked, his eyes returning to my last remaining photograph of Tina. It was the only one I kept after she ended our relationship two months into my second year. I only kept it because she was in a... provocative pose and I didn't exactly have much masturbation fodder around here. "He done something stupid and got himself arrested. Now he's to be locked up here and my friend wants me to take care of him. You know, see that no erm... 'harm' comes his way."

"This where you come in" He exclaimed, rising from the bunk and waving a hand in my general direction. "You're straight as an arrow so there's no fear of any... unwanted... advances," He mocked once again. I had a bad feeling about this. "You keep to yourself, you have excellent quarters here and best of all, you command respect in here, you can protect him from the animals that are in here."

"What's in it for me?"

"Well," He slid the photo into his back pocket, and turned to regard me. "For one thing, you won't end up in solitary confinement for the next month." He was bluffing, he had to be. There was no way he would put me into solitary, I was too important to him. He was a greedy son of a bitch and he wasn't exactly going to risk his earnings, or was he? "And two," he continued, "If no complaints about the treatment of his son reach his ears. You will be in for a very, very easy time in here Mr. Thompson. I can assure you of that."

"Done," I responded. It was a no brainer. As much as I hated the warden, when he made promises they were always carried out. It's not like the kid was going to have a target painted on his back anyway. I mean how hard could it be to look out for him? "But I don't want to get into any trouble with the guards for carrying out my duties, understand?" I finished.

"Fantastic!" The short man squealed, "It looks like my problems have solved themselves," and with that he was out the door.

"Prisoner 21856, you may now enter." The hoarse voice from earlier commanded. I held my breath in anticipation, fearing the worst. My ears pricked as I heard the delicate patter of footsteps approaching the door, they were extremely light. The owner could not have been more than 120 lbs. The step gots closer and my new cellmate entered the cell, and my life changed forever.

The person who walked through the door was nothing like I had been imagining. I was expecting a rebellious 20-something to walk through the door with a big shitting eating grin on his face, knowing his father had the warden in his pocket. What walked in was something different however, something very different. There had to be a mistake. The door slammed shut behind my new cellmate and I had to take a step back to take him in. Or I should say her in, because this was no man.

Walking through the door was a young girl, possibly early 20's. Her petite frame covered by her frame. A beautiful face adorned by piercing emeralds, which while giving off a strong sense of terror, still sparkled in an intensely breathtaking way. Her flawless porcelain skin was accentuated by fiery auburn hair, which gave a sense of purity to the crimson beauty.

The testament to beauty gracefully brushed passed without as much as a passing glance, her hips swinging gracefully as she done so. A sweet distinctly feminine smell wafted to my nostrils. Roses. I hadn't smelled a sweeter smell in years. My heart almost skipped a beat as I stood glued to the spot. Eyes mashed shut, basking in the smell.

A soft, gentle voice from behind me pulled me back to my senses, "So, we have our own shower?" it enquired. This made no sense to me. This was a men's prison. The warden distinctly stated that it was a good friend's son that was going to be living here from now on. Didn't he? Yet here was a very feminine, very sexy girl here. She didn't even have a slightly masculine voice. It just didn't make sense.

"Yeah..." I eventually croaked, at a loss for words. "We have our own TV too, and sink and somewhere to eat," I gestured toward the amenities our forced home had to offer "It's all the comforts of home really," I laughed awkwardly and smiled. She half-heartedly returned my smile and plonked herself onto the bottom bunk. With a sigh she lay on her side, facing the wall and away from me.

I stood, frozen on the spot for a moment before words finally formed in my mind. As I was about to speak to the girl (boy?) a loud buzz rang over the intercom, signalling the start of work. "Don't worry" I spoke to the girls back. "There's no work for your first couple of days, relax here and get used to the place. You're going to be spending a lot of time here." There was no sound from her, no movement from the bed. "Well anyway the remote is under my pillow. We have a few channels but we mostly only get black and white movies and the news. It kinda sucks to be honest but I make do." Still no sound from the girl, still no movement. "The first few days are always the hardest. Everything is gonna be okay. It always is." I added, before I left her to her new home.

--------

After a few hours of my 'laundry work' the usual sound buzzed again over the 'com. It was quitting time. Throughout work I couldn't get the girl out of my mind. Wrestling with questions. Was is a joke? Was it a mistake? Was she a shemale? Damn, she was pretty though. I flashed back to when she first entered my cell. Her gorgeous eyes, sexy lips, perfect white teeth. Fuck it, I decided, I was going to march straight back to the cell and find out what was going on. That wasn't a man in my cell, it was a bona fide girl. It had to be. My mind began to race. What if it's not a girl? What if it actually is a man? Do I have feelings for a boy?

No way, I drilled into my own brain, I've never even considered a man in a sexual way before and I certainly wasn't going to start in prison. "What if it is a man though?" I asked myself again. "How am I going to spend the next 2 years in a cell with a man who looks like THAT?"

When I entered my cell it's new tenant was laying on her bunk watching a black and white movie from long before I was born. She glanced quickly at me and managed a weak smile, before returning to look at her movie. She must have been crying, her eyes looked blotchy and sore. Nerve suddenly draining from me, I proceeded to the washing area. I quickly washed up and climbed onto my bunk, grabbed a book and began to read. A mind crushingly silent hour passed at a snail's pace, interrupted only the occasional soft giggle or 'aww' coming from below me.

"Lights out!" Screamed my schedule keeper from the hall outside and I was in total darkness. The lights and TV powering off simultaneously. I heard shuffling in the bed below me and I reckoned Sarah must have been getting ready to sleep. As soon as the shuffling stopped I worked up the nerve. I decided it was now or never. It'd be a lot easier to talk from up on my bunk, at least then my eyes wouldn't betray my judgement.

"Hey." I said meekly, and instantly cringed at myself, "What's your name?"

"Sarah," She replied after a brief pause, her delicate voice soothing my nerves, "What's yours?"

"It's uh... Mike," I returned, "Hey, eh... Sarah. Listen there's something I need to ask you..."

"My birth name isn't Sarah obviously, it's Shawn. I've been taking hormone tablets for as long as I can remember. Way before any manly... attributes developed." She spoke quickly, as if trying to get it said before I could interrupt. "And for as long as I can remember I've always been a girl. One day I spoke to my mom and told her how I felt and from that day on I've been Sarah." Her voice returned to her normal pace as she seemed to relax, "Does that answer your question?"

"Yeah kind of," I said, before continuing my questioning, "but... what are you in for? Why are you in a men's prison? I mean just look at you, there's no way you belong in here with us sickos."

"Well to answer your second question, it's because I'm a man, well technically I'm a man. You can't argue with a birth cert I suppose. Father tried to get me into Ashdale Women's next door but since the law doesn't differentiate between men and transsexuals I had to come here. Which sucks." I placed my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. Deep down I knew she was a transsexual but I didn't want to believe it. She was so gorgeous that I wanted her to be female. A pang of regret washed over my body and I felt disgusted at myself for checking her out. This place must be getting to me, I hopelessly tried to reason with myself, it's only because I haven't seen a woman in so long.

"To answer your first question..." She continued, her voice slowing to a crawl, "I snuck out one night with my best friend Laura and we decided to go to a party with some of her guy friends." She paused. Silence consuming the room.

"And?" I encouraged her on.

"Well, I got drunk, really drunk. I got talking to this guy and he was so nice and wonderful to me. He whispered into my ear and told me I was the most beautiful girl in the room. He made me feel so special..." Her usually delicate voice filled with pain, as if holding back tears. "One thing led to another and we were making out in his room. I was so desperate for attention that I ripped his clothes off him right away. I needed him to fuck me so badly..."

As I lay taking in her story my mind began to play out the events she was describing, my cock at full attention. Sarah, straddling me with both legs, locked in a burning embrace, ripping my clothes off and begging me to fuck her. I passionately obliged, tearing her clothes her body and jamming my pulsating member into her dripping pussy. Demanding I fuck her harder as I hilt my cock deep in her sex. I involuntarily began to rub my dick, locked in my dream world with Sarah.

"He seemed to be more interested in getting my clothes off though," Sarah continued, snapping me back to reality. "I was so nervous. I didn't know he was going to react. He eventually got me naked and when he did he..." Another brief pause, "flipped out! 'What the fuck you have a dick!' he screamed and I was mortified. Everything I had been fearful of my entire life proved to be true. I was a freak. He grabbed me by the neck and screamed about me tricking him into it. I uh... hit him with a bottle and he collapsed. He went into a coma and I get slapped with an aggravated assault charge and sent here."

"You wanna know the worst part?" She carried on her story, "My dad refused to get me any help because he can't have him having a 'dirty lady boy' for a child getting out. So I get punished for trying to save my life from a lunatic! And now I'm in here with rapists and murderers and scary people and all I tried to do was get him off me!" She wasn't holding the tears back anymore. "And the warden told me that I'm in big trouble in here because the other inmates will see a girl and go crazy for me. He said they are going to hurt me and rape me and I'm so scared! I can't survive in here!" Sarah sobbed, struggling to get the words out.

I descended from my bunk and climbed in beside the hysterical goddess. "Listen to me Sarah," I grabbed her by both arms and turned her to face me. "I umm... I sell drugs. Lots of drugs." I tried a stupid chuckle to cheer her up and she pulled her hands away from her face to look at me with her big beautiful eyes, "I'm the only man who can get alcohol and drugs into this prison. Nobody is going to touch you as long as you're here with me okay?"

"R-really?" She whimpered. I stared into her eyes and her into mine. If anything, her crying made her more beautiful. She looked so vulnerable, so pretty, so girly.

My mind was starting to betray me. Just kiss her. Do it. I could feel my cock start to stir in my boxers. Every fibre of my being telling me to grab this gorgeous girl and ravish her. She finally broke the silence. "What's in it for you? Why would you help me?"

Because you're beautiful, I thought before the realisation of what I was thinking dawned on me, "Because I'm not going to sit here for the next two years listening to you fucking cry about this okay? Now lie down and get some sleep, stop worrying about shit that's not going to happen." I said, aggression pouring out. Sarah was taken aback. My outburst coming from nowhere.

I hastily retreated back to my bunk and lay staring at the ceiling. I had to come to my senses. Sexy or not this was something I couldn't even think about. Throughout my life I had never even thought about transsexuals or the possibility of me being with one. I was a straight man, there is no way I could be thinking about having sex with someone who had a dick, it just doesn't work like that. What the fuck is happening to me?

"Mike?" Sarah broke the silence, rescuing me from myself.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks,"

"Don't worry about it now go to sleep." I muttered before giving up on my thoughts and drifting off.

---

The nightmare is always the same.

"Get up!" A voice pierces through the ringing in my ears. "C'mon Mike! For fuck's sake, wake up!" My eyes flutter open. The ringing in my ears starts to subside, replaced by deafening gun shots. "Listen to me Mike!" The man kneeling above me screams frantically. "You've been hit son, right in the fucking stomach. Those fucking cunts outside have us surrounded!" As the man above me, Dylan his name, hoists me to my feet I become overwhelmed with a searing pain in the centre of my stomach. Holy fucking shit that hurts. "I have the money! Now let's get the fuck out of here!" He roars as he drags my half-conscious body toward the exit

My feet are dragging, vision is blurry and focusing is impossible. I'm bleeding hard from my abdomen. "Mike brother hang on I'm getting you through this!" I'm not gonna make it. "I'll fucking kill you if you die here Mike!" No, I have to make it. I can see the back door, c'mon push! You can fucking make it. I can't hear anymore. Dylan's shouts are replaced by ringing, weapons discharging and whistles as bullets cut the air. We're gonna make it. Not far left. A splitting pain, a blinding light and I'm on the floor. Through twinkling stars I see Dylan is lying beside me. His head gushing red, opened up. "Don't you dare fucking move, you fucking piece of shit!" is the last thing I hear. And then I wake up.

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