Double Edge | WATTYS 2023 SHORTLIST + AMBYS 2023 WINNER

Chapter 00

September 17, 2024

Sunlight broke through the prison's barred windows. Bold streaks of yellow lines brightened the grey-tiled floors. Yet, shadows overpowered them. There were silhouettes of people moving inside the open cells, from the guards overhead and mine because they forced me out of my cell.

I didn't mind leaving it. My cellmate talked to the walls—or me, but I never listened—and when he shit, it stank. Today was one of those mornings. So, if being led down the halls in cuffs meant I could escape his mystery meat diarrhea, then yeah, I didn't mind.

What I minded was secrecy. I asked the guard ten times—why was I being moved from my cell, and where was he taking me? Nothing. I knew I was a prisoner doing time, but I still had rights, didn't I? I behaved enough for clear answers.

My cuffs clinked against my wrists as I followed the guard down a flight of stairs. Another waited for us at the bottom. Her baton tapped against her leg as she looked at me.

"Phyllis." I stopped beside her as the first guard passed her my cuff keys. He glanced at me before shaking his head. To him, I rolled my eyes. To Phyllis, I smiled. "Mornin', Phyllis. Maybe you can tell me what's going on?"

Phyllis slid her hand over the smooth cut of her brown hair. I wanted whoever cut it for her to line me up; I didn't get those liberties. Phyllis smiled once when I asked, but her dark eyes apologized instead; she didn't need to say words. I had felt the sincerity and sympathy in her eyes that day, just like now. She looked at me with those same compassionate eyes and clicked her teeth. "Daniels said nothing, huh?"

Daniels. Was that his name? I had asked that question, too, but he didn't answer that one either. He'd said, "Move," so I followed him.

"No, ma'am." I faced Phyllis and stuck out my hands. My cuffs jingled again. "But these are tight. Do you mind?"

Again, sympathy. Phyllis knew I was an innocent man. Most of the guards did, too. The details of my crime had been the talk of local news. "Group of youths attempt bank robbery. One murders ten." None of it made sense. And the evidence? It was about as straight as my prison-fade.

Phyllis flipped my hands over. Her pale fingers traced my light brown skin. There were hints of pink around my wrists. Too tight, right?

"Look, he doesn't know, okay?" Phyllis kept her eyes on me as she loosened the handcuffs. My fingers relaxed. She blinked, repocketing the key. "And he also wasn't supposed to tell you what he did know. He did good."

"That guy did good?" With my cuffed hands, I pointed down the hall Daniels disappeared into. I couldn't hear him anymore. "Aren't y'all supposed to answer questions?"

"Unless it's a big ass secret, then sure." With her baton, Phyllis ushered me forward. I moved, and when she started ahead, I stayed beside her. With one sentence, she answered my question but gave me more. Was this a secret? Was this something the public didn't need to know?

Phyllis and I stepped into a darker hall. No windows. No bold streams of bright light. Just shadows and silence, unless you counted the sounds of my cuffs and our shoes.

"I ain't never been down here." I looked back at where we came from. The entrance shrank, fading the deeper we walked.

I couldn't tell if Phyllis was looking at me, but I heard her. "Me neither."

Hm. More questions. The darkness in the hallway broke away, flooded by brightness, not sunlight, but white overhead lights. The floor changed, too. These tiles were nice, straight, and recently mopped. The wet streaks across the floor hadn't dried yet, and the yellow "wet floor" sign screamed at me to be careful. I wish someone would've screamed that to me four years ago; then, I wouldn't be in prison, cuffed, doing time for a crime I didn't commit.