Life and death can be determined in an instant. One wrong turn, bad decision, or slip of the hand can cause the world to stop. For Steven Williams, it was exactly that.

An accident he had told them, merely an accident. Steven Williams is a construction manager for the company Intelli Corps, or at least he was. Steven murdered a man by mistake.

He was on the site inspecting the work when a hint of frustration met him in an email. It was an email expressing the complaints of his least favorite employee, Jack Moore. Jack had a weasel like face, average build, and the uncanny ability to estimate measurements within a centimeter. Jack was an excellent complainer, too. The email sent Steven over the edge. The clanging sound his steel in his shoe hitting the steel of a wrench soon resonated throughout the construction site and the wrench was sent over the edge of the building. The next thing he knew he was rushing down the stairs trying to get to the already lifeless Jack. 

“You are hereby sentenced to life in prison!” announced the judge.

The news hit Steven like a freight train. He couldn’t believe it; his worst nightmare has come true.

Facing three of four walls in his four by four cell he looked on, staring into nothing. He felt a cold sweat run down his back as he surveyed the emptiness. The walls were grey and dusty and seemed to be made of an unusual type of cement. There were two windows in the cell, one in the back with a wonderful view of cell block C and the other on the door facing the inside of the prison. There were two beds with a piece of wood as the mattress and there was one toilet that paired a sink. And he could pick up the faint sound of a construction site that must be working on the roof.

The opening of his cell door met him as a surprise. A very thin man and a very hefty guard stood in his line of sight. Without a word the guard gave the man a slight shove and shut the door. The man went over to one of the empty beds and lay down. The man was ridiculously small which made him look younger then he was and he had a nervous look about him. He never stopped moving his fingers. Constantly they were moving as though to distract him.

“So what’s your name?” Steven asked.

“My name is Jeremiah Moore,” he replied in a shaky voice.

Steven couldn’t believe his ears. He needed to know. “So do you have any siblings?” he asked nervously.

Jeremiahs fingers stopped. He looked up, right at Steven.

“I did.” Jeremiah replied. “I did until he was taken from me! If I ever find Steven Williams I’m gona …. I’m gona!” Furious, Jeremiah’s body began to shake violently. He was in a frenzy, beating on the wooden mattress and cursing the man who killed his brother.

His fingers started to move again and he quieted down. Steven stared at Jeremiah’s back from his new found piece, a cement corner. He was in shock, how could he be in the same cell as the brother of the man he mistakenly killed? He took a couple deep breaths and then rested his head back while letting out a sigh. All of a sudden he was taken by surprise.
“Alright you rats, it’s playtime!”

Steven quickly went to the door to find the source of the thunderous voice who was declaring his freedom. His eyes landed upon the head guard John. John had a large belly and there was an angry look that always found a way to crawl across his face. The door opened with the sound of clanging steel and Steven left his cellmate to twiddle his thumbs.

Steven entered a large area filled with inmates. The guards were moving everyone into a large group so they could call role. Steven looked to his left and noticed his crazy cellmate still playing with his fingers. The names were beginning to be called and Steven was quite a ways down the role list so he decided to close his eyes and think. Once again he heard the sound of the construction crew working on the roof; the sounds were now more distinguishable because of the silence of role. The most prevalent sound of them all was that that followed the sound of clanging steel, a muffled thud.

“Steven Williams? Steven?”