Prison Gates
~~ Okay, here's the next chapter. Sorry if it's a little short but MAN its hard to write alot. Anyways, hope you all enjoy! ps: Remember that this is fiction and the court stuff came to me just because i watch alot of procedural crime dramas because i have no life...so if it's innacurate then i am very sorry...most of it should be pretty accurate anyways :)~~
Bring in the next case.
The massive courtroom was oval in shape and was filled with many voices which included those of lawyers, clients and spectators all chatting as one and creating a massive headache for the judge.
Judge Collins, as she was referred to, hated court hearings the most because there was no jury which left only her, the bailiff and many people swarming the room, waiting for their turn in line. She looked up from the file as the cuffed man walked down the isle slowly beside his lawyer and was instructed to stand at the defence podium while the prosecution waited on the other side, eyeing him curiously.
Collins took off her small glasses and stared the man up and down, lowering her eyes in thought at the file she had just read about him. He didnt look very harmfulall in all he looked quite friendly, aside from the small frown and pale face. But being on the job as long as she had, she knew that looks were deceiving and that this softly spoken Asian man was indeed a very dangerous person.
Counsellor, make your case. She instructed lightly with a motion of her hand. Mikes lawyer glanced at him and nodded a little, gripping his brief case.
Your Honour, we would like a deal which allows my client to be put on probation as soon as possible.
Counsellor, are you aware of the severity of the crimes in which he has been charged? she asked with an arched brow.
Yes Your Honour I am, but I see no use in sending him to prison. My client is sick-.
Sick enough to almost kill his entire family? Your Honour, this man is a danger to society and should be locked up. The prosecution argued loudly from the other side of the room.
Judge Collins nodded a little with agreement and sat forward in her chair, eyeing each lawyer as they made their argument. Mikes lawyer glared at the prosecution and shook his head feverishly.
This man has never even received a parking ticket in his entire life. This is his first violation of any law and that fact should be considering during this hearing.
Have you not noticed that his first violation was ATTEMPTED MURDER? Your Honour, you cant just let him leave the court on probation and not expect him to do something like this again. His family fears for their lives! Replied the prosecution.
Collins glanced at Mike and watched him dip his head submissively with whatguilt? Not only did he look extremely guilty, but he also looked like a lost dog, begging to be placed somewhere, ANYWHERE other than in between home and prison.
Do you have an argument for that Counsellor? she asked with a crooked smile. He lowered his eyes nervously and sighed in defeat.
Well to be honest Your Honour, theyre righthe is a danger but he is not a criminal. As I have already said, hes sick.
Youre pleading insanity? Are you kidding me? The prosecution lawyer demanded in disbelief.
Enough! Collins shouted at the prosecution, then rubbed her temple wearily. All these arguments piled upon more arguments were enough to make her go insane. Mike lowered his eyes and silently sighed, feeling the cuffs scratching his skin. He couldnt believe that his future was in the hands of one personand she could either make him or break him.
At this point he really didnt care because waiting in a holding cell for two weeks was enough to make him want the extra cell space at a federal prison. Judge Collins turned her vision towards Mike and flipped through his file once more before nodding.
Michael, I have looked over your file and for the past week I have been trying to comprehend how someone such as yourself could do something like this. You have a wife, two children and a housenot to mention potential millions in profits with your band. You are a very successful person and yet you destroyed all of that within a few months. Why?
Mike slowly lifted his eyes and stared at her sheepishly with a heavy heart.
Your Honour, my client cannot answer that question.
And why is that? she demanded with a frown.
Because he does not even know why he acted like that. That is why I am making a request that he be put in an institution for mental illness and not in a federal prison. His lawyer explained.
And you believe he will be rehabilitated?
Yes Your Honour.
Objection, there has been no psychiatric evaluation on the suspect therefore he cannot be forced into a mental institution. There is no proof he is mentally ill at all!
Collins glanced at the prosecution and sat back in her chair, going over all the information and evidence of this case in her head. The prosecution had a pointthere had been no psychiatric evaluation at all, therefore no proof that he committed the crime involuntarily due to mental illness. This made for a shaky case and so far it was not looking good for Mike.
Alright, due to the fact that there is a possibility there might be mental illness involved, Michael will not be charged with attempted murder.
Thank you Your Honour The lawyer sighed with relief.
Objection Your Honour, this is ridiculous! That man almost killed the people he loved and showed no compassion for them at all!
Sustained. The officers involved in the case informed me that he had complied willingly to drop the weapon. It could be defeat or it could be compassioneither way he will NOT be charged with attempted murder. She explained with a deep burning gaze into the prosecution.
She then turned back to the defence and the prosecutors remained silent. It was clear that Judge Collins had made her decision.
Michael Shinoda, you have been charged with domestic abuse, the utterance of death threats and assault with a deadly weapon. How do you plead?
Mike stared at her for a long moment before slowly opening his mouth to speak. It all came down to thishe could take the blame or lie about it all and spend several weeks in a mental institution. Either way, he was not going to be a free man for a while.
Guilty, Your Honour.
Mikes lawyer turned to him suddenly with a frown and gasped out in disbelief. Excuse me? I thought we went over this? You were to plead not guilty and be institutionalized in a mental facility.
Counsellor is there a problem? Collins asked with an arched brow.
Your Honour, may we have five minutes?
No Counsellor you may not. Your client has already pled guilty to his crimes.
B-but Your Honour-.
The end Counsellor. She then turned to Mike once more and stared into his dark gaze which had once been filled with light and joyonly to be purged of emotion and replaced with violent thoughts and anger.
Michael Shinoda, I sentence you to one year in the maximum institution for men with no possibility for parole. There, you will undergo extensive psychiatric evaluation and will be forced to attend programs to deal with your alcoholism. Do you understand your convictions?
Mike blinked slowly and gave a small nod, then replied with a shaky yes.
Very wellcourt is adjourned.
Mikes fate became sealed the moment the sound of the gavel echoed throughout the oval room. Judge Collins rose from her seat and proceeded into her chambers as the bailiff came and grabbed Mikes arm, pulling him towards the side room where he would be booked and taken to the maximum prison for men. One year? Was that enough to punish him for his crimes?
The sentence seemed a little odd to Mike as he was led down a long corridor and into a small room where he was released and forced to wear an orange jumpsuit. When he was finished getting dressed, two officers cuffed his wrists together once more, and then preceded to cuffs his ankles as well. As he was led to the white unmarked van, he suddenly realized how effective this sentence would be.
With all the chains and cuffs around him, he knew that one year would punish him enoughespecially one year in a maximum institution with all the murders and rapists for company. There was no way to tell how dangerous it would be to live in a cell next to all these hard timerssome even on death row. He could be ambushed in the showerstabbed in the halls and even injured during lunch break. As he watched the city limits disappearing behind him, he instantly trembled at the thought of this prison, this hell hole that would now become his home for the next year.
Danger had a new face within the cement walls of his new home and he swallowed hard at the thought. He was scareddamn scared. Just being alone in a cell, staring out into the hall filled with cells with fifteen plus other guys staring at him and watching him was enough to make his skin crawl.
Did he really belong there?
Probably.
Was he a dangerous murderer and rapist?
Possibly.
Did he accept this fact and guiltily live with it?
Absolutely.
The long drive to the prison was excruciating to Mike because he knew what was going to happen to him when he arrived and he wasnt exactly keen on experiencing any of it. He definitely deserved this punishment and the fear of it pounded his heart against his chest so hard that he could hear it in his ears.
Finally, the white van stopped and the two officers jumped out into the scorching Californian heat then opened the van door, pulling Mike out with a firm grip. He squinted through the brightness of the afternoon and walked clumsily through the cement lined outdoor hallway, forcing the sun to pound against his cheeks, cooking his skin to the boiling point.
The officers pulled him through the metal doors, which buzzed as they entered then slammed shut behind them. He was then led through a darker hallway which led to a small room with a desk and bullet proof window. The person behind the desk stared at the guards as they took the sheet from under the slot and began signing things off and booking the Asian into the prison records.
Finally, after all the preliminary signing, he was taken to a small cement room with a table and a chair for him to sit on. He was left alone in this room as the guards slammed the door shut, probably meeting the Warden and singing more papers, instructing them to which cell he was to be brought to and which routines and rotations he would be a part of.
Mike stared at the white wall in front of him and shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair, jingling the bracelets loudly. Through the door, he could hear three men speaking and someone mention a psychiatrist. Mike blinked slowly at their words, blushing slightly as they continued to talk about him and book him into the prison.
After about a half an hour, the door opened and two guards grabbed him from the chair and pulled him out into the hall then leading him down another long corridor until finally they came to a hall filled with dark cells. Mike swallowed nervously as the chatter from the inmates filled his ears.
We got a fresh one guys.
Harmless fruitwhat the hell is he doing here?"
Probably killed someone with some hardcore Kung Fu moves
Chuckles and cackles echoed throughout the hall as Mike tried to avoid eye contact with them. The guards stopped him in front of an empty cell with one bed and a toilet as well as a sink and the only illumination was from a small barred window.
The door was unlocked and slid open with a clang, then Mike felt himself being pushed inside and the cuffs were taken off, leaving him feeling slightly naked after so many hours with them on. He rubbed his wrists and watched the guards silently close the cell door and lock it, finalizing his fate. The chuckles of the other inmates continued to echo off the walls as Mike stared around his cell, eyeing each cement brick with disinterest.
Slowly, he sat down on the firm cot and leaned back against the wall, glancing up at the barred window with sad eyes. This was ithe was hereand now his punishment would begin. For hours, he just sat there, not knowing exactly what was going on or what to do. Jingling and clanging would echo down the hall, indicating that the guards were walking around opening doors and talking to inmates. Voices bounced off the walls as mindless conversations ensued and Mike knew he was being talked about.
The closest prisoners to his cell had been referring to him as the Asian Kid for several hours and soon Mike became tired of the talk and raised his knees to his chest, lowering his head and covering his ears with his arms. Hours upon hours passed until the afternoon shine slowly became an evening glow and the sky turned dark blue with only a few stars peeking through the clouds. For the first time in weeks, perhaps even months, Mike began to feel a terrible sting in his heart and a sickness within his stomach.
It didnt take him long to realize that these feelings were of longinglonging for friendshipfor his family and everything familiar in his life. He knew they couldnt forgive him for what he had donehell he couldnt even forgive himself but as he stared into the darkening sky, all he wanted to do was crawl under the covers of his hard cot and cry.
His cell became dark and gloomy and the prisoners voices died down to mere snoring, allowing Mike time to finally relax. Only one thought was coursing through his mind as he continued to watch the sky above blacken and feel a small tear trickle its way down his cheek to come to rest at the base of his chin. He blinked slowly and gave a small sniff, gripping his knees tightly and rocking back and forth like a lost child.
I want to go home
Prison gates won't open up for me
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'
Oh, I reach for you
Well I'm terrified of these four walls
These iron bars can't hold my soul in
All I need is you
Come please I'm callin'
And oh I scream for you
Hurry I'm fallin'
Show me what it's like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me
Heaven's gates won't open up for me
With these broken wings I'm fallin'
And all I see is you
These city walls ain't got no love for me
I'm on the ledge of the eighteenth story
And oh I scream for you
Come please I'm callin'
And all I need from you
Hurry I'm fallin'
Hurry I'm fallin'
{Song: Savin' Me}
{Artist: Nickelback}
~~ Okay, so there it is...he's in prison. Does anyone visit him? And if they do...whom????? Oonnesss lotsa drama coming soon so watch out for that. Reviews as always are HIGHLY appreciated cuz you guys are just so incredibly awesome!! Thankees and don't forget to come back for more! :)~~
Courtyard Cries
~~ Okay this chapter is a little pointless and possibly boring but i just lack creativity and imagination today so bear with me. Anywhoo, hope y'all enjoy!!!!!!! :)~~
One year
Anna stared down at the newspaper after hearing her daughters voice of disgust, and frowned with concern.
Why are you reading that? she asked softly and grabbed for the paper, only to be stopped by Lauras hands.
That bastard nearly killed us and all he gets is one year? Are you fucking kidding me? she demanded with deep burning anger.
Anna lowered her cool blue eyes and gave a heavy sigh, shaking her head. It was up to the judge Laura, you cant change that.
Three years at leased Momhe should have gotten three years. She snapped back and closed the paper, smashing it against the kitchen table. Anna glanced down at the crumpled newspaper and turned around to see her daughter opening the fridge for a soda. She was obviously taking this harder than everyone else in the house.
Even Mikes band mates werent as angry as her. Sure, they were concerned for his family and were utterly disgusted when they found out what had happened but to completely shun him from their lives? It wasnt going to happen anytime soon. Laura however was taking this extremely hard and there wasnt a day that went by she didnt make some nasty remark about her so-called father. As the weeks passed, Anna truly believed that her daughter had started to hate him and some days she wouldnt even acknowledge the fact that she was related to him. The hardest part yet was when Xander would run around the house calling out for his father, expecting to get a hug in the morning and a kiss goodnight in the evening.
Anna had to sit him down and explain to him that daddy wasnt coming back for a very, very long timepossibly never. Anna remembered that day well, as if Xanders sad brown eyes were burned into her mind, constantly reminding her of the missing parent. The three year old still did not understand why his father had to leave and why he wasnt coming back.
Even though Anna had explained all of this to him, he still continued to search the house for his father, sometimes even steal a shirt from his dresser to cuddle up with on the couch while watching TV. A heartbroken child searching for their parent was extremely upsetting and nearly had Anna on the verge of tears everyday. Hopefully one day Xander would get used to the single parent and would continue to live normally without even a thought of his imprisoned father.
If only Anna could forget Mikes sad eyes and trembling lips as he was taken away in handcuffs. The image still haunted her in her sleep and left her cheeks stained with tears in the morning.
Mommy!
Anna blinked the image from her mind and looked around the room to see Xander running towards her with a distraught look upon his face.
Yes Xander, what is it? she asked quietly, staring down at the tiny child.
Radio! he shouted, holding up the small portable radio with the antenna extending upward.
What about it? Laura muttered, sipping on the cola and walking towards them.
Daddy on the radio he explained slowly, extending the machine towards his mother who stared at it with dark eyes, listening to the static sound of electric guitars, drums and voicesMike and Chesters voices to be exact. Anna bent down on her knees in front of her son and grabbed the radio gently, turning it off.
Xander, youre supposed to be putting your toys away.
But Mommy-.
No Xandergo pick up your toys. She ordered with a soft voice.
The child stared down at the silent radio and blinked slowly, feeling the tears burning his eyes and swelling his cheeks with a light crimson. It was evident that he missed his fathers voiceespecially when he sang to him to get him to fall asleep. Laura remained silent as Xander started to whimper sadly with trembling lips.
Butthat Daddy he whined sadly, allowing the large tears to crawl down his cheeks. Anna sighed heavily and wiped away her sons overflowing tears with a heavy heart.
I know sweetiebut Ive already explained this to you. Thats not your dadthats just a recording of his voi-.
I miss daddy Xander interrupted with a small sob and leaned into his mothers shoulder, soaking her shirt with his tears. She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his black hair with care, allowing him to weep his little heart out. Laura grabbed the radio and turned it back on while receiving a disapproving glance from her mother.
Turn that off she whispered, not wanting Xander to become attached to his fathers voice. This would only cause more sadness to fall within his eyes and the longing for his fathers arms around him in a comforting hug.
Momjustjust let him listen to it. She whispered back with a small frown. Anna sighed uneasily, then finally nodded in defeat, allowing Laura to hand her little brother the radio.
He grabbed it tightly and pressed it against his chest, listening to the comforting voice of his father ringing through the small speakers.
Tireda bein whatchoo want me to be he sang along quietly, swallowing his tears and blinked heavily to rid the wetness from his eyes.
Laura, why dont you help your brother clean the toys up from his room? Anna suggested.
Yeah surecome on Xander. Laura replied and grabbed her little brothers hand, leading him towards the stairs. Anna watched them thump upstairs and eyed the radio still glued to Xanders chest as they disappeared into the upstairs hallway.
It was hard to think about butthey couldnt live with Mikeand they couldnt live without him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The sound of a basket ball bouncing against the hard pavement echoed throughout the cement courtyard as well as loud shouts and laughter. Mikes dark Asian eyes scanned the ridiculously bright day which seemed to contrast against his shadowed mood. All the inmates from his cell block were brought outside to exercise in the small courtyard filled with a basketball court, various exercise equipment and skipping ropes.
Mike however, had no interest in participating in such activities and decided to isolate himself on top of the long wooden bleachers, overlooking the yard. He was thankful that the other inmates decided to ignore him this time because the last time he was out here, he had been pushed down to the pavement, burning his cheek against the heated cement.
Mike could never really quite understand why he had been attacked that day but assumed it probably had something to do with his Oriental blood. Some of these guys were pretty racist and he wasnt exactly keen on joining them while they were building their muscles. Of course, if another inmate were to come up to him again to attack him, there was no hope in hell hed be rescued since the guards were either up in their lookout towers or back inside the building on a coffee break, glancing out into the courtyard every once and a while to see if everyone was still alive.
So much for maximum security.
The ping from a bouncing basketball awakened him from his thoughts and he looked down to see the orange ball rolling towards him, only to come to a halt at his feet. Greatthis just put the attention of twelve inmates on him.
Hey Chinese dude! Little help!
Mike looked up from the ball and eyed that inmate cautiously, watching him flailing his arms stupidly like a bird.
Chinesenever Asian, never Japanese, never Americanalways Chinese.
Why?
Hey did you hear me? You dumb or something?
He probably cant speak English! Another inmate shouted, causing the others to laugh. Somehow this reminded Mike of junior high.
The intelligence level was about the same.
Mike shivered slightly as four inmates began walking towards him with amused glares and balled fists. Something told him this wasnt going to end well.
Hey Chopsticks, you deaf? This guy was pretty bigmany tattoos and God knows how many piercings. He didnt exactly seem like the conversation type but more of the fists in your face type. Mike stared at him silently with a deep glare, kicking the ball lightly towards him.
The big guy stared down at the ball and then burst out laughing as another inmate picked it up. Look at this dude! Not even a wordhow rude The big guy explained and then shook his head with disapproval.
Relax man, he dont know English! Another one stated, then everyone around Mike began laughing. Mike rolled his eyes and gave a heavy sigh, instantly regretting his decision.
Hey you guys see that? The little asshole rolled his eyes at me. Why dont we say we roll up our sleeves and give him something to sigh about? Mike swallowed hard but tried not to let them see his nerves as they began advancing on him.
What does it take to get a little fresh air around here?
Just before the big guy advanced his fist towards his face, he was stopped by a stern voice, loud enough to echo throughout the courtyard yet soft enough to be considered an inside voice.
Come on man, leave him be. Hes newbesides hes probably got more balls to keep his mouth shut than you do.
Mike looked past the crowd at the voice and watched as an average sized Hispanic man walked through them and came at a stop near Mike.
You protecting Chopsticks here? the big guy demanded with a glare of disbelief. The Hispanic inmate crossed his arms, somehow dangerously flexing his tattooed muscles all at the same time.
No Im not protecting anyone. Im just explaining to you that once you send one fist into this guys face, the guards are going to come out and beat the shit out of you. Take a look at those watch towers.
All the inmates in the yard looked up into the bright sun and stared into the bullet proof, tinted windows of the watch towers where two guards stood with rifles in hand.
You see? Theyre always watching guys. So why dont all of you go back to your little basketball game and leave this guy alone huh?
The big guy with all the earrings glared down at the Hispanic man and clenched his fists tightly. What, are you gonna kindly ASK us? Who the hell do you think you are?
First of all, Im not askingIm telling. Second of all, Im just trying to keep the peace here alright? Prisons hard enough as it is. You wanna rough me up, do it during lunch breakjust leave this guy out of it. He explained calmly.
Mike watched silently as the two inmates stared each other up and down for several momentsthat is until the big guy made a dangerous move, sending his fist flying through the air towards the Hispanic. Before his fist could even hit him, the Hispanic inmate grabbed his knuckles and squeezed them as hard as he could, dropping the big guy to his knees.
All the other inmates stood around in a state of confusion, watching this tough guy suddenly wincing and begging for mercy.
You take one of us outyou take all of us outunderstand?
The big idiot nodded and blinked away his tears, sighing as the Hispanic released him from his grip.
If I see you near him again I will personally see to it that youre bunking with the rapists he hissed quietly.
Mike hid a smile as the big guy stood up trembling and rubbed his hand, shaking out the pain and without another word, turned around and walked back into the basketball court along with all the other curious inmates. A few of them even chuckled under their breath and gave the Hispanic looks of approval and gratification.
It seems that big guy had been a nuisance for a long time. When the crowd around Mike had died down, the Hispanic male turned around and stared at him for a short moment, watching his Asian eyes carefully. Was he judging him? Nah, this didnt seem like the kind of guy who judge seeing as though he just saved Mike a lot of pain.
Mind if I join you? he asked calmly, receiving a shy look from Mike.
The Hispanic raised a brow and sat down beside him anyway, giving a large smile.
Youre not much of a talker are you?
Mike almost laughed at that remark considering he had been an Emcee for several years and talking was basically his pay check.
The names CarlosCarlos Rodriguez
Mike nodded a little and swallowed hard, not knowing exactly what this guys motives were. Either way, he wasnt about to turn down a friendly face.
Nice to meet you He mumbled quietly, staring down at the pavement.
Soyou DO speak Englishwhats your name man?
Michael
American name, American accentI dont see why these guys have a problem with you. Carlos stated with confusion.
I guess its the eyes Mike replied quietly.
Carlos nodded and stared out into the bright sun. Yeah I had the same problem when I first came here. They didnt really like the fact that a Hispanic guy was treading on their white man territory. Anyway, I set them straight a few years ago and now they leave me alone for the most part. He explained.
Perhaps that was why he had saved Mike from becoming an Asian pancake. Racism was obviously a problem in this prisonwell probably a problem in most prisons.
So what are you in for? Mike asked casually, feeling relieved that someone wasnt trying to beat the shit out of him.
I knocked off a few banks in my younger yearskilled a few people for profit, that sort of thing. I should be out in five years
Mike nodded with acknowledgement and stared at him, knowing exactly the question this Carlos was going to ask him. So why are you-.
I beat the shit out of my wife and tried to kill my family. He stated simply without a hint of emotion.
Carlos raised a brow in disbelief and gave a crooked smile. You? You cant even stand up for yourself in a fight.
I never said I couldnt. I just havent had the chance Mike replied softly and then stopped as he heard the familiar voice of the guard.
Hey 556! Lets go!
Mike stood up reluctantly and frowned, instantly knowing where he was being taken to.
Hey man, where are you going? Carlos asked.
Psychiatrist. Apparently Im insane, or maybe it was mentally illone of those. Anyway, thanks for covering my assit wouldnt exactly look good to the Doc if I showed up with a bruised face and broken bones. Im trying to get off on good behavior you know? Mike explained and then walked off slowly towards the guards who were waiting for him with cuffs.
Carlos watched Mike disappear inside the walls of the prison and he frowned with intrigue. Not only was this guy shy and quiet but he was also extremely witty and intelligentnot to mention sarcastic. But the one thing that interested himor perhaps disturbed him the most was that Mike was unlike any of the other prisoners.
He wasnt tattooed or scarred or mutilated in any way. Somehow, he figured that this gentle Asian man didnt really fit in at a maximum security institution. Actually, fit in is the wrong way to explain itit was more like he didnt belong among these criminals.
He shook off these thoughts and walked back into the court towards some exercise equipment. With that kind of personality, that Asian boy was liable to get himself killed. Sarcasm wasnt exactly a great tool to save your life.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The walk down the corridor was long and tiring as Mike shuffled his feet along the hard surface of the floor. Each step he took felt like bricks dragging behind himwell actually the cuffs around his ankles were probably the reason for that.
This was ithis mental help.
Did he believe he was insane?
Maybe.
But the more time he spent in prison, the more he began to feel that this had nothing to do with the alcohol or the stress at all. Perhaps he was born like thisperhaps he had always been a threat to the people he loved.
The guards stopped him in front of the door which read: Mental Health, Dr. Richardson PHD. Well, the only way hed find out if he was crazy or not was to talk to this doctorwhich he wasnt exactly keen on doing. Cooperation wasnt exactly a priority for him at the moment and making this guys job a living hell would definitely make him feel better for the rest of the day.
I cant believe I actually want to make someones life a living hell just to please myself. Wellmaybe I am crazy. Oh well, time to have a little fun.
Mike stared at the door with dark eyes and gave a small menacing grin
~~ Yeah Mike...he's kinda crazy right now lol...anywhoo...k, all the names i used I made up okay so dont try to sue me if ur name is carlos rodriguez..there's probably a million out there anyway...SOOOOOOOOO if Mike mentally ill or just need help??? Stay tuned to find out! Reviews HIGHLY appreciated and THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING THIS! OH YEAH, and the song Xander was singing along to was Numb by Linkin Park...incase you didn't know lol :)~~
Psycho-analysis
~~ WHOA...Thanks for ALL the reviews so far! Wow! You guys are GREAT!...and just to let everyone know...i've never actually seen Prison Break...but i'm sure it's a good show. LOL..anways, ENJOY! :)~~
Doctor Richardson, theres an inmate here to see you.
The good doctor looked up from his desk and dropped his pen that he was using to write down paper work with and frowned slightly. Does he have an appointment?
Yes sir, hes your two oclock The guard replied with a slight bit of impatience. After all, standing in front of the psychiatrists office wasnt exactly exciting. Doctor Richardson opened his file cabinet and flipped through his appointments, then pulled out the file under 2:00.
Send him in. he called out and turned around to see the door opening and a tall Asian man being hauled into the room by two guards. His eyes instantly darkened as he remembered this mans filethe damage done to his wife and the terror he had inflicted among his family and friends.
The guards pushed Mike down into a soft cushioned chair across from Richardsons desk and cuffed his ankles to the legs of the chair. Mike never even blinked as the guards pulled away from him and exited the room, returning to their daily routines of attempting to maintain the prisons security. Richardson sat forward and leaned his arms against his desk, eyeing Mikes file curiously, then looked back up to face the prisoner right in his eyes. The look he was receiving from Mike wasnt exactly what he was hoping for at the moment because he could always tell that by the look they were giving or how they were acting, it would be an indication of where and how far this session was going to go.
So far, this prisoner didnt look to be in the help me Im sick kind of mood. With his dark Asian eyes penetrating the doctor and a small smile twitching out of the corner of his mouth, he seemed to have been mocking the doctor in a sort of way that told him: Go for itsee if you can cure mesee if I care. Not only that, he could almost feel Mikes dark gaze staring into his soul, looking for some kind of weakness in an attempt to get himself the hell out of there as soon as possible.
The doctor had much experience with patients like that and scaring him was not going to be as easy as Mike thought. He was going to receive help whether he liked it or not and somehow Mike was starting to sense this as the doctor smiled a little.
Good afternoon Michaelhow are you doing?
That friendly voice sickened him to the very depths of his heart.
How do you think Im fucking doing? Im in prison you ass wipe! Jesus Christ, cant these doctors take a hint.
The Asian remained silent, just watching and staring into Richardsons steely blue eyes and counting down the minutes until he would be able to return to his cell and sulk in the corner. Richardson nodded a little and knocked his knuckle against the desk lightly, signaling to Mike that he understood very well how he was doing.
I see he replied and sat back comfortably against the soft leather chair.
Youre shyI understand that. Prison is a very frightening placeespecially for a young man such as yourself
Fucking pricktalking down to me like Im some sort of lost child.
Mike never moved a muscle or blinked at this man and remained silent with a heavy glare, still keeping those dark chocolate eyes on himwatching him.
How have the other prisoners been treating you? Richardson asked with a small frown, noticing the fading bruise on Mikes left cheek. Finally, after a short moment of silence, Mike blinked and shifted his body into a more comfortable position, resting his cuffed wrists in his lap. Richardson smiled briefly at Mikes now conscious movementsa few jingles from the chains attached to the cuffs on his ankles, a few more blinks, and a hard swallowobviously the last question asked made him slightly uncomfortable and so the doctor decided to use that against him, provoking, hopefully a verbal response.
I see you have that nasty bruise on your cheek. Did you become rough with a few of the men in the courtyard-.
I did nothing.
Richardson shivered slightly at the tone of Mikes voice. How dark and whispered it wasas if he were trying to conceal some held back angerperhaps even a few violent words that might get him more time in prison.
Really? Because after looking at your file, I can see the danger you constantly put yourself in. I wouldnt be surprised if someone accidentally brushed past you in the corridors and you stabbed them
Mikes jaw tightened at his words because deep down inside he knew that this doctor was just trying to get a response out of him. In reality, he wasnt really like that. Besides, he liked to use his fists more often than a weapon.
You fucking psychiatrists think youre so fucking superior to everyone. You people think you know everything but the truth is you have no fucking idea what is going on inside my head right now. Mike explained with a deep, raspy voiceindicating that he was no longer going to play this little psycho-analysis game.
Richardson blinked slowly and rocked slightly in his chair, eyeing Mike curiously. Then tell me Michael. Tell me whats going through your mind right now.
I thought it was your job to figure all that out.
I thought you said I didnt know what was going through your mindhow about you enlighten me. Richardson replied, feeling much more interested in this particular prisoner already.
He seemed extremely intelligent and wittywhich was perfect. The dumb ones were always such a borethis man was a challenge and that much was obvious. He seemed secretive and shy yet also very outspoken and charismatic. In essence, they were both playing with each others minds and rather cleverly at that. The doctor was attempting to trick Mike into revealing the source behind all his anger and Mike was attempting to confuse this doctor so that hed never find out.
It was a difficult game but also extremely fun to play.
How about you stick a metal rod up your ass and leave me the fuck alone. Mike stated quickly and sat back with ease, watching a smile stretching along the doctors lips.
Because first of all, that would hurt a lot and second of all I am trying to help you.
Help me why?
Because you need it.
Yeah and whys that? Mike demanded with a deep frown.
Well besides the obvious, the judge ordered it and I can already see how mentally disturbed you really are.
Mentally disturbed huh? What exactly makes me so mentally disturbed?
Richardson opened Mikes file and began pulling photos out of the pocket of the folder and displaying them out onto the desk in front of Mike one by one.
Take a look at these and tell me a normal, healthy human being would be able to cause this much damage. He stated in a low voice.
Mike continued to stare at him and didnt even look down at the photos of his bruised, bloodied up wife and pictures of his children with ligature marks from the ropes he used to bind them.
Youre not looking. Richardson warned softly.
Why should I have to? I caused the bruises remember? I think Im fully aware of what I did. Mike explained calmly.
Actually I think youd be surprised Michael because the camera really does bring out the full effect of the pain. The doctor explained casually with a furrowed brow.
In reality, the film in the camera would have been able to penetrate the skin to bring out the sub dermal bruising that the naked eye isnt able to see, therefore illuminating ALL the bruises while creating a nasty picture that would make anyones stomach churn with fright and disgust. Mike swallowed hard in discomfort and avoided all eye contact with the photos.
If youre so obsessed with these images then why dont YOU look at them?
Youre avoiding them Michael. You did this and now youre feeling guilty. Thats whats not allowing you to look at themand I know that what you did makes you feel sick everyday you wake up in this prison. I know that by the look in your eyes right now, you are not a bad personyouve just made some mistakes in your life and turning to alcohol was one of them. Thats what brought this anger on and thats what made you hurt your family. Yesyou are sickbut you CAN be cured.
Mike blinked quickly at his words and sighed shakily, trying not to let him see his nerves. N-no
Look at the photos.
NO.
Look at them Michael!
He snapped his head down at the sound of the doctors voice and stared down at his feet, not wanting to look at the desk.
Look at the PHOTOS Michael. Its the only way you will be able to accept what you didand the only way youll be able to get over this guilt and anger. Richardson explained calmly.
Fuck you, you fucking prick! What the hell kind of sick psychiatrist are you? Mike demanded, feeling his voice breaking with each word.
For days, those images had haunted his dreams and caused him to feel sick to his stomach. He was not about to look at the whole picture of the damage he had caused. Besides, trying to rid himself of those thoughts was the only thing keeping him strong. Butthe more he continued to think about them, the weaker he felt himself becoming and knew that eventually he would snap emotionallyeven with one glance at the photos on the desk.
Im the person whos trying to get you out of here as soon as possible. I agree with your lawyeryou are NOT as dangerous as this file depicts. You simply need helpyou are SICK. Richardson explained in a soft tone, watching Mike beginning to tremble.
Define SICK. Mike mumbled, breathing shakily into his lap.
I believe you are severely depressed. I also think you have post traumatic stress disorder and a wide range of anger management issues, not to mention being an alcoholic.
What makes you say that? He demanded quietly, slowly considering looking at the photos. Maybe if he did take a peek, he would realize the kind of monster he had become and try to change that in an attempt to return to the person he was before.
Doctor Richardson watched Mikes eyes scanning the floor slowly and could even see the wheels beginning to turn in his mind. He was thinkinggoodhe wanted him to start thinking. Four years ago-.
N-noplease Mike whispered desperately.
Why did he have to bring that up? Bring up anything but that!
Four years ago, He continued.
Your daughter came down with a serious case of Vasculitis and nearly died. That event hit you hard and caused your post traumatic stress disorder. During her illness, you became severely depressed and tried to end her pain by ending her lifewhich didnt happen because you realized that you would just be ending it sooner and not giving yourself a chance to appreciate her while she was still living. Thankfully she didnt die but you still felt saddened and frightened by those events, having nightmares
He stopped and watched as Mikes jaw tightened and loosened, then tightened again. Obviously he was trying to ignore the memory and stop his tears from welling up in his eyes.
And then your son was born, which increased your stress because you were still afraid that something bad was going to happen to your children even though they were both safe and healthy. Of course your band touring began and you were forced away from your family for weeks, even months at a time and to keep your depression at bay you would drink. Probably started as two a night, then increased to about four until finally you couldnt get the beer out of your hand. All of this snowballed into one massive problem for you and pretty soon you couldnt handle the depression and stress.
Instead of talking with someone about it, you turned your problems into angeranger in which you inflicted upon your family and friends until you were basically out of control. You almost killed them Michaeland not because you were angry or dangerous or even violent. You just couldnt control what was happening to you and before you knew it, you were staring at nine police officers with their guns pointed at youand a knife in your hand.
Mike remained silentalmost frozen in place as the doctors words echoed throughout his brain. How could this be? How could this man figure all of this out in one session? Was he really that good or was Mike just a guy with obvious problems? Perhaps this doctor had dealt with inmates with this same problem many timesor maybe he had put so much interest in this case, he believed he could actually rehabilitate him.
Could he?
Its time to stop running from this problem Michael. Its time to look at those picturesand to start putting things into perspective Doctor Richardson explained quietly.
Mike swallowed his tears and blinked quickly, attempting to find the courage somewhere to look up. After several moments of taking deep breaths and closing his eyes, he slowly lifted his head and opened his dark orbs, scanning the pictures slowly.
The shocking content of the images nearly sent him into convulsive vomiting. The ligature marks on his childrens wrists were so deep and so rigidit was hard to believe they survived that long with the tightening constraints. Images of their teary eyes, pleading to him flashed through his memories and forced a large lump to form in his throat. He glanced at Annas picture and felt his cheeks draining of all color.
Her strong blue eyes seemed to stare at him with hatred, darkened by the black bruises around them. She looked sickly pale, almost like a demon with dry, split lips and collapsed cheek bones. Tears began stinging his eyes as he stared at the hundreds of purple lacerations, splitting the skin open on her bony back, overlapped with black and yellow bruises.
Mike sat there with shaking hands, just staring silently at the images before him. After a while, the doctor began thinking that perhaps he was in a state of total shock and wouldnt ever be able to move againthat was until Mike let out a sudden cry of heavy sobs and lowered his head shakily, closing his eyes to those soft Asian slits.
His whole body rattled violently with each cry while he slowly raised his hands to his forehead and leaned down, weeping into them feverishly. The doctor watched him silently as he continued to sob and struggle for air. It wasnt long until the effects of the photos images in his mind began to cause him to vomit involuntarily all over the floor.
At this sound, two guards came rushing into the room only to be stopped by Doctor Richardson. The last thing Mike needed was two guards hauling him off to the showers where hed be sprayed and doused with soaphell he was barely able to breath already.
Slowly, the vomiting stopped and he coughed out heavily, still feeling his stomach churning dangerously with guilt and disbelief. Mike attempted to calm his breathing as the tears continued to stream down his red cheeks, hitting the puddle of vomit on the floor. Mike kept his head low and his hands remained on his forehead, causing his spikes to shake continuously with each sob. After a short while, his sobs became shallow coughs and sniffs and he gave a trembling breath with each thought of his family.
J-Jesus Christ he whined into his lap.
The guards and doctor watched him with interest and silence as he began to finally battle the violence and anger within himself.
A-Anna... He whispered shakily as the tears warmed his lashes once again.
M-my poor babies he muttered in a soft tone, with a scratchy voice still trapped in tears. Apparently the consequences of his actions had finally begun to hit himhit him hard.
How could I have been so stupid? What the hell is the matter with me?
W-why He whispered with a barely audible volume.
Doctor Richardson glanced at the guards and frowned with concern. Inform the Warden I want to have a word with him.
Yes sir. One of them replied and left the room, leaving the other guard standing there in shock. Never in his career had he seen an inmate so upset with guiltand it seriously began to make him question this mans presence in the maximum security unit.
Slowly, Mike raised his head and trailed his soft eyes over the horrid images once again. Doctor Richardson watched as Mike lifted his hands cautiously and touched the pictures gently with care, as if touching them would cause them to shatter into a million pieces.
Mike closed his eyes, not feeling worthy to look at them and whispered a few soft wordswords only he and the pictures were able to hear. And with a gentle breath, he set them free like a soft breeze.
Im sorry
~~ MHM that's right..anyways, Hope y'all are having fun with this so far and just to let you all know...this fic is gonna be LONG...and im not even exaggerating...okay maybe i am a little lol. Wootness, Reviews are HIGHLY appreciated and Thank you all so much for reading! *hands out cookies* :)~~
