Scratch. A jumpsuit affair

“Don’t drop the soap” He hissed cheekily.
Love is nice when it’s understood
He sighed, “He’s in for murder, yet he had no trouble stealing my heart”
When your world is trapped between four walls
“It’s not like I planned this to happen.”
- Scratch, A Jumpsuit affair.


1. Part One

Scratch, a jumpsuit affair.

Part I

It all started with a crime, like all important prison stories this event sent our crim straight off to the big house. The young lad had no idea what he had himself in for, so much so that his hands were a sweaty mess, everything in his body was threatening to shake as his footsteps hit the dusted floorboards of the prison hallways that particular August afternoon. Harry had no clue what the next two years would entail for him, he had no idea what to expect. In his head he was innocent, but tell that to any prison officer and they would laugh, as if they haven’t heard that one before.

Seventeen year old felon, Harry Styles was fretting to say the least, he had even prepared himself for the worst. The trial had been scary enough, lawyers, press, the scary faces of his family members, none of that compared to jail, not one little bit. Harry didn’t think he would ever shower again after the horror stories he had heard as a boy. The rumors were enough to make him ill, it was a wonder he was even able to walk down that hallway when he was breaking piece by piece from his intestinal interior.

The tricky part was, Harry held onto his belief. He thought for sure that he would be rescued by his gang, somehow they would find a way to break him free from this imprisonment. He was so deluded as to thinking that these people would come clean, that they would risk their own safety for the sake of his innocence.

Harry remembered that evening like no other. He remembered it in exact detail from the colour of his untied shoelaces, to the exact time the gun was fired. He didn’t even have to close his mind to remember. The visions played out, over and over through his mind every second of every day.

Each step echoed louder than the last, constant ringing began to shout through Harry’s head as each step drew him closer and closer to his room for the next two years. He wasn’t at all excited, he had heard too many horrors to make him feel at any safe between these walls. The chains that hung from his wrists in an awkward connection made him feel trapped, It was like nothing he had ever experience before.

He had lived through the dirty looks he had received every time he left his mother’s house. He had lived through the spitting, the hair pulling and verbal abuse as he walked into the court house. He had lived through the disappointed face of his mother for a long time, but Harry doubted very much so that he would live through prison.

Maybe it was his baby face, or the way he spoke. Harry was always an easy target, rival gangs always tried to attack him first. Their animal instincts told them to prey on the weak, but the weak he was not. His own gang, Venom, used Harry to their advantage. Nobody would expect the baby faced teen to cause any harm. It was easy, too easy in a way.  Little old ladies practically handed over their purses, home owners would let him climb out the window when he was caught playing with their children’s money boxes. They all assumed he was just a kid lost on his way, someone to feel sorry for, but sorry was not what he needed. Sorry was not something Harry was ever taught.

One last corner, Harry didn’t know what was happening as a guard grabbed his wrists with full force, pausing outside a cell room door, unlocking it with ease. Harry watched him carefully knowing there was no point in running, no way of escaping. He played with his jumpsuit, scratching an itch he hadn’t been able to reach the entire journey. It just wasn’t fair at all. He was gently pushed into the room, the door clasped shut behind him. He didn’t know he would be sharing his new lifestyle. He didn’t realize this came with a roommate. A small grunt from the corner made Harry clear his throat in awkwardness, obviously the lad hadn’t heard the door open, obviously he wasn’t paying any attention at all.

Harry couldn’t help but notice the actions of the man, the very familiar actions he had been caught doing more than once if he was honest with himself. “I uh,” Harry coughed, unable to spit any proper grammatical sentence together, he had no idea what to do with his eyes, so immediately they fell towards the direction of the running toilet bowl that was situated in the corner of the two bedded room.

“Shit,” The male cursed under his breath, his hand paused as he looked over at the innocent boy who had entered his previously private cell. “Who are you?” He asked as he slipped his hand out from underneath his trousers, he wiped the excess liquid along his bed sheets, wanting to forget that event ever happened.

“I-I’m Harry” Harry managed to croak out, he still couldn’t look at Louis, not that he knew the boy had stopped, he didn’t know that at all. He wanted to give the stranger privacy, he wanted him to know he wasn’t some gay weirdo who perved on strange boys either.

“M’Louis” The stranger introduced himself. “You can look at me now, I ‘aven’t got my hands down me dacks anymore.” He said with a solid chuckle, one of which caused Harry to smile, to feel at ease.

“Erm, right.” Harry nodded as he slowly turned back around, this time taking a good look at the face he would be waking up to every morning. He didn’t look too scary, in fact he didn’t look that much older than he was.

“What did you do? Burn down ya pre-school?” Louis shook his head at how young Harry looked. It was funny, most prisoners he had encountered were hairy fat blokes, none who quite fit Harry’s description at all.

“I’m seventeen.” Harry mumbled as he sat down upon the spare bed, which he assumed must be his, as there were no others in the tiny room.

“Seventeen? Hell! I never knew they lowered the age.” Louis laughed, clapping his hands together as he shifted his position to find one with more comfort.

“It’s me birthday in a few weeks, they didn’t want to end up shifting me later on , yeah?” Harry explained, twiddling his thumbs around awkwardly.

Louis nodded as he took in this information; another laugh escaped his lips as he slapped his own knee. “Cheap bastards, didn’t want ta waste any money eh? All I can say is, they never seem to surprise me.”

Harry smiled to himself, he liked how easy it was to talk to this stranger, he had a warm feeling in his stomach telling him that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad in there after all. Maybe he wouldn’t die, not yet anyway.

“Me neither.” He answered softly.

This is where Harry’s story began, not during the trial, not the day he stumbled into his gang culture. This is Harry’s story, one that changed his life forever.


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