Thump

Day 1: One year.

I’ve been sentenced to a year. For helping someone out instead of bringing them in on something that isn’t even a crime. Which you’d think would be my job, I’m a fucking cop, but nope. Fucking DA is more interested in arrest numbers than actually helping the people in this city. Makes me wonder why I do it, sometimes.

Oh, and to top all this bullshit off, I’m in solitary. Mostly because I helped put away about half the population of this sorry excuse for a prison, and they can’t guarantee my safety if the others could get to me. 

Well. At least I have TV, and this journal, and a few books. I’m good for a bit, at least. Who knows? Maybe I’ll actually enjoy the peace and quiet.

Day 3: Who the fuck programs daytime TV? It’s all news and laughable courtroom shows and fake reality shows. I mean, seriously. Does anyone actually believe this crap?

Day 7: Well, it’s been a week. Finished one of the novels they let me bring. First one in a long, long time. Good story, lousy ending, meh characters. Maybe I can get the guards to bring me something from the library?

Day 13: I am officially sick of talk shows. Why do these celebs do more than one? I mean, seriously. They say the same thing on almost every fucking one. At least Kimmel’s kind of funny.

Day 34: Kimmel’s no longer funny. Same bad jokes over and over again. Someone needs to shoot his writers.

On the plus side, got a new book.

Day 55: Heard my daughter’s voice for the first time in two months today. It’s her second birthday, so they let me have a fifteen-minute phone call. Wonder if she’ll remember me by the time I get out?

My wife sounded… off. I guess it’s tough, having me here and raising a kid solo, especially since I was the one with income. And I doubt I’ll be reinstated after this, so… yeah.

Day 74: First time my lawyer bothers to show up in two and a half fucking months, and it’s to hand me divorce papers. Didn’t take the bitch long to move on.

…

All I can say is that the bastard she left me for had better treat my baby girl well, or I will come for his ass, even if I have to break out of here to do it.

Day 100: At least, I think it is. I might have lost count in there somewhere. The cable’s been out for three days now (maybe more? I’ve been sleeping a lot). Rereading one of my books. Who the hell thought giving a guy in lockdown HP Lovecraft stories was a good idea? My dreams have been fucked.

Day 122: Got confirmation of the day from the guards this morning. I’m ⅓ of the way through this nightmare.

Day 149: Had to stop journaling for a bit. Pen died, and apparently writing supplies for inmates aren’t a high priority. 

Sis came through tho. Sent a whole box, new journal… and a pic of babygirl. Gods below, she’s adorable. And she looks happy, which is good.

Day 168: Tv’s out again. Going on a week now. 

Sis sent new books. Edgar Allen Poe, this time. I’m sensing a theme here.

Day 173: Okay Poe is fucked up. I dreamed about that fucking cat last night. Ye gods.

Day 180: Six fucking months. Finally got to go outside today, though. Hated every second of it. Too bright.

Day 201?: It’s my birthday. I think. Lost track again. Broke the TV. Think I was in the middle of a nightmare or something. Course they haven’t fixed it yet.

Day something: Beginning to think like Poe.Keep hearing a thumping in the walls.

???: Fixed the TV. haven’t turned it on yet. Trying to track down the thumping. Maybe it’s above me?

???:  can’t find it. Turned the sound up to drown it out. Tell-tale heart  was on the movie channel. Fucking figures.

Thumping gets louder when the tvs on

Day 265: Maybe. Heard one of the guards say I have 100 days left. Not sure i trust them.they can’t hear the thumping

But i hear it. All the time now

Thump

Thump

Thump

Day 298: its getting louder

Even hear it when i sleep now haven’t slept in four days not sure how much more of this i can take and the guards won’t let me out

Day 300: prison doc was here. Said its auditory hallucinations or some bullshit. Gave me a shot- slept, at least, but the sound is still there

Day 330: 35 more days of this

Only a month

I can do this

I can do this

Can’t be defeated by a sound

Almost free

Day 335

I can’t do this

The screaming covers it, but only for a minute

Can’t scream forever it’s been a day and all that comes out is a squawk

And it hurts oh god it hurts

Day 347: doc came again. Been asleep for a week, they said

It’s louder now

And faster

Thump thump thump thump thump thump like drumbeat in my head

Day 360: sorry babygirl. Daddy loves you

(the rest of the journal page is covered in blood)

Day 361:

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Did they ever figure out what happened?”

“Cause of death was easy. He stabbed himself in the ear with a pen. Ears, really, Did them both at the same time. One of them went too far and he hemorrhaged.”

“Ouch. Why’d he do it?”

“He’d been complaining about a thumping noise for months now. We looked, never found anything. Guess he went nuts. Doc did an autopsy; I don’t know all the technical terms, but it was something about a tumor blocking a nerve?”

“That’d drive anyone crazy. Poor bastard. Only had five more days, too. I heard his sister’s talking about suing.”

“Good luck to her then. Maybe they’ll do something about this place. That’s the fourth suicide we’ve had in three years. There’s a spot to your left, right by your foot.”

“Huh? Oh, right. Thanks.”

“Warden says we’ve got a new occupant coming tomorrow. It won’t do to have blood on the floor.” *grunts* “Alright, I’ve got the bedding. See you in block C.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Day 4: This room gives me the creeps. They say the last guy killed himself. I can believe it. Place still smells like bleach.

Does someone in this row have a radio? I keep hearing this thumping noise...