I knew nobody would recognize me.
I was a proper kid the last time they saw me — back when they all abandoned me.
Tall, skinny but fit, neat haircut, glasses, always wearing my favorite hoodie with the school logo.
But you put a kid like that in prison, surrounded by violent offenders, and you either adapt... or you perish.
I adapted.
I trained every day in the yard.
I got big. I got mean. I got effective.
Don was a lifer.
He took me under his wing.
Still don't know why. Somehow, he saw potential in me.
Now ask yourself what that means... in a place like this.
The first time I met him, he beat me up.
Not his boys — him. Right there, in the middle of the yard.
When he finished, he stood over me and yelled at me to get up.
Everything hurt. But I got up.
Later, I learned: if Don beats you up in the yard, it's not payback.
It's not a warning.
It's recruitment.
The fight was the intake interview.
And getting back up after that beating?
That meant I passed.
After a few days in the infirmary, Don invited me to his table and explained it plain:
Anyone can get physically strong. But in the big house only the mentally strong thrive. Only the ones who know pain, and don't flinch from it, survive long enough to matter.
From that day on, I was one of Don's boys.
First, they protected me.
Then, they trained me.
And eventually... they taught me the art of "conversations."
(And no — it doesn't mean what you hope it means.)
I don't think anyone ever forgets their first "conversation"...
the first time you make sure someone doesn't walk away.
I became one of Don's Spokespersons. One of his best.
Some "conversations" ended quick.
Some left souvenirs that don't fade, no matter how thick your skin gets.
One of those souvenirs is in my face.
At first, I hated it.
Now, it's part of me.
The man who walked out 15 years later?
Big. Strong. Mean.
Tattooed. Bearded.
I got out six months ago.
Don gave me his blessing. And contacts.
Went straight to work.
Same line of business as inside.
Turns out... I'm very good at it.
All that old interest I had in computers? Gone.
That willingness to help people and get nothing in return?
Gone too.
Now everything has a price.
Of course, the price is always negotiable.
Just remember... I learned my conversation skills on the inside.
I know how much I've changed.
Let's see how much the rest of the family has.