For Furrbaby ~

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"Aquarius?" The person behind the screen asked. A girl, no more than 16 glanced up, warily eyeing the metal bars that separated her from the voice. She couldn't see the woman's face, but she didn't care. She wanted to forget this place as fast as possible. The less she saw the better.

"That's me." She said, voice flat and hollow. Six months she had been here, and it was expected for her to sound tired. So, she played it up, eyes only watching the ground. The less you look like a threat, the more people trust you. Simple as that.

A paper was pushed towards her, a pen rolled out behind it. The woman extracted her fingers as quickly as possible, as if Aquarius might bite. To be fair, maybe some of the kids in here did. "Sign on the dotted line, then wait outside."

Doing as she said, she scribbled her name and headed for the door. Heavily bolted and metal. Smart. It clicked unlocked, and she pushed it open, wincing at the harsh sunlight filtering through the windows. She hadn't seen direct sun in what seemed like forever, save the fluorescent lights the whole facility had.

The Junior Correctional Facility. JCF, if you were professional. Hell if you were one of the kids here.

In the last room, a guard waited lazily, a gun at his belt. Aquarius could think of at least twelve ways she could steal it in less than thirty seconds. Her fingers itched to grab, her legs ready to run.

But she did not want to go back there. Even though he was waiting for her. She just couldn't.

So she simply nodded when he greeted her. Said yes and no sir to his basic routine questions. And when he asked her to give up anything she had brought with her, she lied and said she had nothing.

And with a gruff nod, he lead her to the police car that would take her home. Then, in the safety of the soundproof glass that separated them, she pulled the paper scraps out of her sock.

The largest pieces were the size of her hand, the smallest on a gum wrapper, each filled with messy handwriting. Sometimes in pen, or pencil, or ink, they all had one thing in common.

They told the story of the boy across the hall.

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Are you reading this? Hopefully this is the right room for the girl with the dyed blue hair, or I might get my ass beat. So I won't say who I am. But I need somebody to know my story, and for whatever reason, I think it should be you.

The first note, written on a dirty napkin, had slipped under her door an hour after curfew, crinkling just enough to grab her attention. Aquarius had read it and discarded it, thinking it was some stupid joke one of the older kids was playing on her. So she went to sleep without another thought.

That was exactly four months ago.

Me again, and I promise this isn't a joke. I heard you laughing about it at lunch. You have a nice laugh. It's good to hear in such a dark place. I'll guess I'll tell my story soon.

Slightly nervous she had a stalker, she had discarded the paper before going to bed. This one had come the next day at the same time, this time on a sheet of ripped note paper that they gave out occasionally to get us to write. Nobody ever did, but yet they tried. She had gone to sleep once again, wondering what was to come.

I've been here since I was eleven, and let me tell you, I wish I could say it gets better. But I'm fifteen now, and it still sucks. Now, how did I get here? I guess like you, I have a story too.

Aquarius had gotten used to the notes at this point, even slightly excited for their arrival in a strange way. Same time, every day or so they would arrive under her door on seemingly whatever surface he could get his (or her?) hands on. She no longer discarded them, but kept them, in the netting of her mattress.

I guess my story is fairly simple actually; I was a bad kid. Surprised? Me neither. Everyone here is a 'bad kid'. I'm just a little worse.

Dun dun dun! I love suspense, don't you? But I'll get to the point soon, promise. You're probably tired of waiting. I am too.

So, to start out, I didn't have a great home life. Yeah, I know I'm full of surprises. So did every kid here. But I'll bore you with my dramatic backstory anyways, so stay tuned.

So my stepdad was shit. Not to my mom, but to me and my older brother behind her back. Slapping me, yelling at me, the typical story. The only difference? It started when I was five. And I came here when I was eleven. I waited six years without doing a thing, so never let it be said I'm not a patient man.

Not part of the story, sorry for wasting your time. I just wanted to say you looked really nice today. Even in these nasty suits they make us wear, you look good. I can't imagine how beautiful you must look outside of here, with the sun on your face.

I just wanted to clarify that I am not in fact a stalker. I'm just a little too shy to talk to you, and I think I have every reason to. Those older guys keep eyeing you, the ones with the tattoos that smell like the crap they smoke in the back of the cafeteria. Plus, you look like you could cut a bitch too. So for now, I think I'll stay anonymous.

Maybe I'll tell you who I am later, but don't count on it. Anyways, back to the story.

Thanks for reading these, if you are. It helps me a lot, and I hope it does something good for you too.

So one day, in maybe fourth grade or so, I was tired of it, I just wanted him out of my life, see? I didn't have a plan yet, so I was just simply angry. That's when the JCF first put their eyes on me.

I keep thinking back to that day. Maybe if I had just kept quiet, I could've gotten away with it all. Maybe not. But who knows for sure.

So we were doing some stupid project for Mother's Day, and they asked us to draw our family, plus a message for our mom. They'd turn it into a card, etc, etc. so I drew mine, but I guess it was a little different.

There was my mom and me on the cover, cute right? So then you opened it, and it said, I love it when I'm just with you. Still cute. But then you flip it over and...

I don't remember what I drew happening to my stepdad, but it was definitely not normal for a fourth grader. My teacher alerted the principal, who talked to my parents, etc. It was a mess.

After that, he beat up on me less, but verbally abused me more. My brother too. I think he took the brunt of it, honestly. He did the kind of things nobody could prove. Just mental. And it got to me after a while. A while being when I was eleven.

I was to young, too stupid to have a plan. My brother however, was four years older. Smart too. Too smart.

I was walking back home from school when I saw it. I took the path through the woods home, which I almost never took because it was dark and wild. I don't know why I walked there that day.

Anyways I heard a shout through the woods, and like the stupid kid I was, I followed it. It was towards my house anyways, so what did it matter?

Before I keep talking, I wanted to say you look nice with your hair up, in the least stalkerish way possible.

I saw my brother first. He had a black shirt and dark jeans on, so I didn't notice at first. But his eyes... god, he looked so guilty. I knew it even before I saw my stepdad.

You see, there was this little cliff that the river ran down that we both loved to go to as kids. Our mom always warned us to be careful, and we were.

My stepdad was not careful.

I don't know why he was out there, or why my brother was there either. I don't know what happened. All I know is that my stepdad ended up dead at the bottom of the cliff, and that's all the police cared about either.

You wore your hair up again? I'd like to think it was for me, but maybe you just like it that way too.

Anyways, my brother had this crazy scared look in his eyes as he looked from me to my stepdad. 'I didn't do it.' He kept saying, his whole body shaking. I didn't know what to do. I was only eleven.

'I did it.' Was what I told him. 'It's my fault, not yours. I pushed him, not you.' He didn't understand at first, and I don't even know if I meant it that way. But after a minute, I said, 'Run.' That was the last time I ever saw him.

I saw you searching at the cafeteria today. Was it for me? I'd like to think so, but I suppose you have other things in your life besides me and my stupid story to worry about. But I guess I'll keep writing and pretend like you're reading it anyways, even if you're not.

But if you are, here's my description;
Brown hair
Brown eyes
5'9
And that's about it. I blend. Good luck.

Anyways, back to the story. When it all came down to it, they found me guilty. Apparently my brother was never a legal citizen here, so he had no documents. In their minds, he didn't exist. I think about him a lot. I hope he's doing well.

My mother stayed quiet, if you're wondering. She had just lost her entire family in a matter of days. I think she secretly hoped she could hold on to me too. But in the end, she let go.

I was too young to go to jail, so they sent me here after deciding I pushed my stepdad off the cliff. After finding the Mother's Day card, along with a few other trinkets I'd rather not mention from my disturbed childhood, it seemed straightforward.

They'll never know this story, will they?

I suppose if you wanted, you could give all of this to them. Let me free, or maybe just dig my hole deeper for lying. But let me tell you, I don't regret a thing.

I don't know what you did, but do you?

He went around a month between letters after that. Aquarius stopped expecting the little crinkle inside her door an hour after curfew, stopped waiting to see his messages. In a strange way, she felt closer to him than anybody else in the hellhole, and honestly did all those little things for him.

He had made her life a little better.

It wasn't until the day before she was released she got another note. She had been reading in her room, away from the others, anxious to leave. It was an old copy from the JCF library that had been used for many things that were probably not reading so the cover had nearly fallen off. She was nearing the end when she heard the familiar crinkle of paper that still made her perk up in excitement.

Except this time, it was two in the afternoon.

Aquarius hurriedly rushed from her bed, tossing the book away. Whatever, it had seen worse. She didn't bother to read the note. That could wait. Slamming the door open, she came face to face with the person she had been waiting to meet for months.

He was scrawny, with brown hair and eyes, dark skinned and sat a few inches above her. Aquarius didn't know what she expected. He was no Prince Charming, but in a way she couldn't describe, he was everything she had hoped for.

Without a word, Aquarius pulled him into a tight hug. The boy tensed up for a minute, clearly not used to this, before relaxing into her.

"Thank you." She whispered into his shoulder.

"No problem." He replied. His voice was light, but scratchy. Rhythmic. Nice. "I decided I might as well show my face, if you'll let me send you off."

Pulling away, she looking into his eyes. "Yes, on one condition."

He smirked. He had dimples on both sides if his cheeks. "What is that?"

"You tell me your name."

"Sagittarius. Nice to finally meet you, Aquarius."

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Teary eyed, Aquarius placed the scraps back into her sock. She couldn't exactly miss him. They had only really known each other for the day.

But she could say she would miss his notes, the excitement she would feel jumping up to read them. She would miss waiting on another piece of his story, thinking about it all day. She would miss the way he wrote, the little details, everything.

Did she love him? No, probably not.

But she would miss him all the same.