Losing Control

Chapter One.

I kicked a stone into the road as I walked to my destination. Not much had really changed during my time away. I was expecting everything to look different, but it all looked familiar. I was only a fifteen year old boy when I got sent down, so much had changed in myself in twelve years. And yet on the outside, so much hadn't. The only difference I could see were bigger, fancier cars.

I heard stories of people being released from prison and skipping merrily on their way to a new, great life. I heard about the joy in their hearts and the smile on their faces as they leapt into their future already as a 'better man'. It was a load of bullshit. I didn't feel like that. I felt pained.

I didn't belong to this suddenly noisy, polluted world anymore. The problem was, I didn't really belong anywhere. I ran a hand through my unruly black curls and hurried down the long stretch of road for ten minutes with my head down. As well as cigarettes, I saved some money for the prison barber once every two months. I hated to think what my hair would have been like otherwise. It was wild and untamed even when short. Before getting sent down, I had always taken pride in my hair. Now it was just an annoyance that I had to keep on top of.

When I got to the end of the busy road I had to take a left turn down a little street which led straight through to an alleyway. As I made my way through, two large, tattooed men with bald heads were loitering, blocking the path for any on-comers.
I shook my head in disbelief as I watched one of them brazenly snort something up his nose in the cold light of day, not caring if anyone saw him or not. I had a feeling that they too were ex convicts as the hotel was just at the end of the alley. I lowered my head, walking purposely towards them, hoping they would get the hint to move. I learned years ago never to look anyone in the eye, it only led to trouble. And I had certainly had my fair share of trouble.

Their massive frames took up the whole alley as I squeezed by them.

"Oh, look what we have here. A newbie."

I carried on walking, hearing them swear as I passed by them and ignored their words. No matter how angry they got, or how close they came, the key was to always, always keep your head down. I honestly couldn't count the number of beatings I had received in the first few years in prison just for looking at someone the wrong way....or even just for looking at all. Sometimes, I got beat so bad, that I lay there in my own blood absolutely convinced I was dying. I prayed for it. I prayed to just have it all end. I spent many nights hoping that one day, one of the thugs would take it too far so my pain would end.

The convicts that had been blocking the way in the alley soon disappeared, probably to get their next fix and in no time at all I was in the hotel carpark.

I squinted up at the shabby brown building that housed the tiny, pokey rooms with disgust. The place was such a dive it made jail look like a five star hotel. I walked to the grim looking front entrance to be greeted inside by a miserable skinny woman who looked at least eighty. I had to check in and sign some paper work in order to get my keys for the room. As I was still under the authorities care, I had to follow the rules or end up on the streets. Or even worse, back inside.

"Noah Woods."

My voice croaked with the strain of talking. I wasn't used to speaking to anyone anymore. It seemed like an effort to even open my mouth to eat these days.

The old lady grunted at me, then turned away to get some things out of a filing cabinet. Her back was hunched, her hair was grey and she had wrinkles even on the back of her neck. She wheeled back to the desk in her rolling office chair and slammed some books and keys on the desk in front of her, then slapped some paperwork on top.

"Sign this paperwork here, then take the books and keys to your room and read them carefully. Follow the rules or you will be back where you belong. Scum like you shouldn't have a chance anyway, you are all disgusting."