Ruined 2

By: Alycia Taylor




I woke up the day after the party with the biggest fucking headache I ever had in my life. I swear to God it felt like it was going to explode. As I lay there in bed trying to come out of my coma, bits and pieces of the night before started coming back to me. I drank a lot of beer. Way too much…It was just too damn readily available in that bar. Now I at least understood why my dad was drunk half my life.

After I drank all of that beer I think I got overly confident. I remember going into my dad’s office and looking through his emails. He would have fucking killed me if he had caught me. He almost did. I’m sorry I did it though. I did remember finding one email from Terrance.

I reached into my foggy head for the memory.

The email was written the day before I got busted and it said something about everything being all set. I suddenly remembered something else, it didn’t really penetrate last night but I think the subject of that email said Dax.


I wished I had time to print it off. I doubted I would get lucky enough to walk in and find the computer unlocked again when my dad wasn’t around to kill me.

That email had to be the key to all of this. They had to be planning the set-up, otherwise, why would my father and Terrance be using email to talk about me? They saw each other every day. If they wanted to talk about me, why not just talk? I wasn’t around a lot back then anyways, with school and everything else. I knew the old man was always paranoid about the club being bugged. That should have told anyone who didn’t think he was doing any back room illegal business with the club that he was as guilty as hell. Innocent men don’t sit around worrying about whether or not someone is going to bug their office. Hell, they could have bugged my cell at Pelican Bay and I wouldn’t have given a damn.

The Smoke Joint is your run of the mill bar anyways, why would anyone want to bug it and second of all why would he care?

I knew that whatever they were talking about had to be something they didn’t want to come back on them later and that was why they were using the short, blunt emails.

I also knew that this shit wasn’t doing anything for my pounding head. I needed to get in the shower, that would help…I hoped. As I slowly drug my ass out of the bed I had another vague memory from last night. This one was of kissing Olivia. At first I thought it was just one of many memories of her that I kept stored in my head. But this one was different. I remembered putting on the mix tape and asking a broom to dance.

Shit! No, that’s not right.

Damn I really had to stop drinking so much. I asked Olivia to dance while she was holding a broom. She was trying to clean up because she had told my mom that she would help. I wouldn’t take no for an answer so finally we danced and she giggled like she was having fun at first, I thought.

But then I messed up.

I got caught up in the moment. I was too drunk to be that close to her. I lost my inhibitions and I kissed her. I had missed those lips for two and a half long years. She kissed me back too. I knew that was a real memory.

She got all weird and started saying, “Oh Dax, what about Terrance? We shouldn’t be doing this.” What about Terrance, really? The guy who acted like he was my best friend but just couldn’t wait to swoop in and steal my girl the second that I got locked up, that’s who Terrance was. The guy who communicated with the President of the Smokin’ Jokers via email about setting me up, that was Terrance. Her poor innocent boyfriend. I had to wonder if the first time they kissed she said, “What about Dax?”

I growled loudly and grabbed my head. Thankfully my mom didn’t hear me or she might have come racing in with the first aid kit. I really needed to find something to do besides hang out at that bar all day every day.

I pushed up off the bed that I had slept in since I was sixteen. My mom re-decorated the whole house that year and my room was included in the make-over. I got a California King bed and when I went to college, it was the only thing I missed about home besides my mom. When I was in prison, I missed a lot of other things too, but sleeping on a cement block with a two inch vinyl mattress underneath me wasn’t even in the same realm as my California king.

I made my way into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stood there while the water heated up and looked at myself in the mirror. It was sad that while I was in prison, I actually looked healthier than I did now. I looked like shit. I had bags under my eyes and a three days growth of beard on my face. I sighed and stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower.

I stood underneath the spray enjoying the way it felt against my tired muscles. Why they were tired, I had no idea. I hadn’t even worked out since I got out. I was going to have to start hitting the weights or my muscle was going to do a quick transformation into flab. The lack of a work-out could be the source of the sore muscles. If I got all flabby, then Olivia really would never want me back.


Why did I even still want her back? She dumped me even after I told her I was innocent. She didn’t visit me in over two years inside and she was screwing my best friend. I still saw her the way she was back before all of this happened. She was sweet and loyal. She wouldn’t have even looked at another guy much less slept with one.

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