There it lay, right in the middle of the room. That grubby old mitt, shredded to pieces. Four weeks ago, a new prisoner named ‘Jamie’ arrived at the hell gates. He possessed a personable appearance and a brawny structure. To his misery, his cell-mate was Holden Caulfield or as the others called him- “Two-Face Caulfield”. “So why'd y'all call him that?” said Jamie in his guttural voice. “What? You talkin’ about Two-face? That duplicitous bastard lies for a living. What’s even more repugnant is that the psychotic taint, believes in his lies. Pretty sure I’ll be released early if I do the lyncher’s job of killing Two- face,” the prisoner laughed. It was lunch time. A group of brawny prisoners walked towards Holden to execute their daily routine. “Hey Two-face, where do you think you're going?” said one of the prisoners. He was standing next to the door, six-feet two inches tall, grey-haired, seized with an impotent rage. Jamie intervened to defend Holden. …show more content…
“Goddamn. I hate all those phoney bastards. Only come to me when old Phoebe brings some of her cake. It kills me,” said Holden repeatedly. He kept turning the water on and off in the sink. A habit developed out of nervousness. Jamie stroked his stomach and replied, “Really? Some of them did try talking to you the other day.” Jamie seemed to have a peculiar interest in Two-face that nobody could