Hayden signed her name on the last bit of paperwork, pushing it to the woman behind the desk. The woman took them into her hands and scanned through it quickly, flapping the pages so fast, Hayden wondered if she was even reading it. Her beady eyes flickered around at Hayden’s written blue ink. She then pulled out a name tag with a scan code on it and scribbled something on it. She handed it to the younger girl. “Wear this whenever you come to visit,” she told her.
Hayden nodded, sticking it on the collar of her white blouse. “And I’m able to visit as frequently as I want?” She asked.
“As long as it’s between 10 to 6,” she replied boredly. It sounded as if she had recited the same words to many other people before.
“Can do,” Hayden said. She put a smile on her face. “Thank you.”
The old woman only frowned. “Just hurry up. There are others waiting behind you, you know.”
“Right. Sorry,” Hayden apologized. She bowed her head, and then left the counter. She could hear the woman calling “next” to the person that was behind her. She headed towards the entrance of the enclosed prison. And as promised, two guards stood in front of the doorway. She held up the name tag she had just received only moments ago. It was still hot from the printer.
“You’re good to go, Miss Hayden Velma,” one of the guards said, handing back her name tag. She gave him a slight nod and the automatic doors slide open. She went through them, the doors closing behind her. She could hear them lock a second later. She sighed and pressed forward.
The hallway was, of course, covered with more guards. Each, she had to show her name tag to. One by one, they approved of it, and she continued through the hall. Finally, she made it to the door. She studied it for a moment, before figuring out to hold out her name tag. The door scanned it and slide open. She walked through it.
This led to a long hall, much different than the first. It was completely white, with clear glass rooms at each and every corner. Hayden strode through the hall, glancing at each small room. No, no, no, she thought to herself as she saw each one. They were only strangers; criminals. Then she stopped.
She had found him.
Louis was sitting in the middle of his room, staring down at the ground. His face was blank; expressionless. His blonde hair hung over his eyes, his clothes were all white — the t-shirt, the pants. His fingers were moving across the floor, as if he was writing. “Louis,” she breathed. She pressed her hands against the glass. He glanced up almost immediately, his expression changing to pure surprise. He jumped to his feet and ran towards the glass wall. “Hayden, what are you–?” He shook his head. “How…?
“I came to visit you,” she answered, smiling sadly. “I missed you.” She pressed her face to the cool surface. Her breath started to fog up the glass, she wiped it away.
“I miss you too,” he said. A small smile formed at his lips, but then he frowned. “You really shouldn’t be here though, Hayden. I never asked that of you.”
“I know,” she replied. “But…” Tears started to form at her eyes. “I wanted — needed — to see you.”
He stepped closer, their faces only inches apart. If the glass hadn’t been there, Hayden thought she would have been able to feel his warm breath. “Of course,” he agreed. “I needed to see you too. But, it’s better…if you don’t…not here…” His voice broke off.
She sighed. “I know.”
He smiled. Hayden noticed his eyes, too, were stung with wet tears. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you. I am.” She wanted to cry out, but held it in. Instead, she laughed.
“You shouldn’t be have to be here,” she said quietly. “It isn’t right.”
“Hayden, listen to me,” Louis told her, suddenly becoming serious. “We’ve already been through this. I know it was a…mistake, but I can survive. We just need to wait a little longer.”
“But you don’t deserve this!” She cried.
“Hayden,” he repeated her name in a stern. It reminded her of how her mother would sound if she had done something wrong.
“I know,” she exhaled. “Fine, fine. ‘Wait a little longer’. Got it.” She pushed a hand through her hand, then adding, “I don’t agree with it though.”
“That wouldn’t be in your character, if you did.” He looked at her with an affectionate gaze. Her cheeks flushed pink.
“I–” She found herself glancing at her watch. It was almost 6 PM. Her eyes widened, “I need to go…” She looked back up at Louis.
He nodded. “Then go,” he said quietly.
Her fingers trailed his face along the glass. He only stared back at her. “I’ll be back,” she told him. A sad expression crossed his face, but he said nothing. She pressed a finger to her lips and then to the glass. She then turned around and started towards the door.
Hayden was almost sprinting by the time she saw the door in her vision. The tears she had been holding, were now flowing hot down her cheeks. She bit back the scream she wanted to yell. She was a few feet from the door when she hear a voice. At first, she had thought it was Louis, but when it repeated, she knew it wasn’t. It was much lower; huskier. It made her shiver. “Why are you crying?” The voice had asked.
She glanced around frantically, trying to locate where it was coming from. She stepped away from the door. “To your left,” the voice then notified. She looked that way. It was a few rooms down from the door, and much darker than the others, she noticed. She found herself slowly walking towards it. Then she found the speaker.
He had black hair and intense, dark eyes. His face was angular with harsh lines. The white clothes made his pale skin look sickly. His mouth was in a hard smile. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t have a reason to cry,” he said.
“Well, I am,” she sniffled. Hayden glanced back at the door. She needed to go, why is talking to him? As far as she knew, this guy was a criminal. There was a reason why he was here. Louis was different. He was imprison without a trial, for a crime he didn’t even do.
His smile grew. He stood up, coming closer to the glass. She realized he was quite tall — taller than she had expected. Taller than Louis. His clothes also hung extremely loosely on him, unlike her boyfriend’s had. She wondered if the boy ever eats at all. “Maybe, you should forget about that special little boyfriend of yours, and end the crying. That seems to be the only thing he makes you do nowadays, isn’t it?”
“That’s none of your business,” she turned around. “Why am I even talking to you? I was leaving.”
“You talked to me because I sparked your attention,” he answered for her. He pushed his palms to the glass. “I interested you.”
She ignored him and headed to the door. “Is that what you say to every guest that comes in here?” She called, glancing back.
“No,” he wasn’t smiling anymore. “No one talks to me. At least, not until you did.”
“No,” he wasn’t smiling anymore. “Usually, they don’t talk to me.”
Simple Writing; 