Song Above: KOD J.Kole

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The prison guard was right about one thing, this guy was a hundred and two per cent on the crazy side. He had all the side effects of taking bath salts, without having to even consume them.

He was twitching like a kid after a sugar rush, instinctively reaching out and scratching his arm, which was covered in fresh and old wounds. I had to look away at one point from the scarlet blood oozing down his rusty tattooed arm. He had shoulder-length slicked black hair that would put a young Charles Manson to shame, a pointed sharp nose and a thick beard that covered most of his lower face. He'd been muttering incoherent sentences from the moment we stepped foot in the room.

I hadn't looked at Brody, despite the fact he was squeezing the hell out of my hand. If I looked down my fingers were probably purple.

We were in a small confined room, surrounded by four grey walls. At one point I found myself staring at the chipped paint, I wondered if it were a natural progression or if it had been gouged by the prisoners themselves as they tried to pass the time before the insanity stepped in line.

I pulled at a thread on my skirt, shifted in my seat and wiped my forehead with the back of my hand.

Was it hot in here?

Could they at least open a window?

Oh wait, there wasn't any.

"Red sign, blue lights, red sign, blue lights," The man repeated over and over again rocking slightly on his chair, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated to the point his whole iris looked black.

"I don't think we are ever going to have a proper conversation with him," Brody sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair.

I was surprised by his calm demeanour, it was almost too calm. I pictured him being a firework that was inches away from a flame. I didn't want to be here when he erupted.

I knew he was disappointed, sad even that he couldn't have a conversation with the man convicted of killing his mom. I think he thought this would have gone differently, but even Brody Jackson couldn't prepare for this.

I leaned towards Brody and spoke loud enough so only he could hear, "Maybe this is all an act,"

He shook his head and gestured towards the man, "That is one hell of an act, I don't think he has the brains to pull it,"

"How would they have gotten him to confess if he was this insane?"

"They said they found the gun in his apartment," He said, "Oh and the fact he was bragging about killing her to an undercover cop," He winced at the last bit and I knew it hurt him. This whole ordeal was like pouring salt in his wounds.

"How did he brag to a cop if he's insane?" I questioned, tearing my eyes away from the nut job in front of me to look up at Brody.

He shrugged in indifference, "Apparently he got into a fight with his cellmate, I think they might have hit him too hard,"

"Red sign, blue lights, red sign, blue lights.." He rocked back and forth rhythmically, whilst clenching and squeezing his fists in his lap. I mean if this guy didn't get an insanity plea I'd be surprised.

"Why does he keep saying that?"

"He's talking in some bullshit code, I don't know, I'm not a psychiatrist,"

"Can we turn it off? It's insufferable," I groaned.

I'm gonna be dreaming about red signs and blue lights at this rate.

"I don't know what I expected to get out of this but it definitely wasn't fucking this," Brody bristled letting go of my hand and getting ready to leave.

The man suddenly paused his ramble, tilted his head to the side and looked at Brody as if he'd only just realised he was in the room a sickly sweet smile stretching his lips across his face.

"You look like her," His words silvered across the table and landed on Brody's lap.

Brody's features clouded over and descended into this blank sheet of hostility that made even my skin crawl, "What did you say?"

The man giggled like a child on helium and put a hand to his mouth, "Oops, you weren't supposed to know my secret, stripes and navy, stripes and navy," He sang and his delirious chants hurt my ears.

"What did you say before that? You absolute whack job," Brody demanded.

"Stripes and navy, stripes and navy, you look like her, but she was prettier, not worth the tree's, not worth the tree's,"

There was a frozen silence for a couple of seconds, between the man's rambles and Brody's low growl that erupted from his throat, it felt as if everything were in slow motion.

Before I could do anything to stop the next events Brody lurched across the table, the impact of his body causing the man to go flying back onto his chair. The metal and his back on the hard concrete caused a deafening sound and I heard a scream.

I wasn't too sure whether it was the mans or my own.

"I'll kill you," Brody's raw voice was brutal against my ears as he pulled his fist back and connected it hard and strong against the man's face. He spat blood onto the floor a mixture of grey and scarlet and I had to hold onto the chair as nausea clawed at my stomach.

"I'll fucking kill you, you monster, she was my mom," Brody's anger was an impossible build-up of steam and fire, burning on the way out, burning anyone on the receiving end.

The man didn't stand a chance.

Six pairs of rough hands tried to seize Brody. There was only one of him and he still managed to cause a struggle. He got once last punch in the man's face before he was yanked away so fast I was surprised his limbs stayed in place. He was dragged into the corridor, a loud commotion of yelling and curses as he passed.

I took this moment of silence to regain myself. I leant across the chair, a hand on my chest as I tried to seize the rapid beating of my heart. I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth letting a cloud of calm settle over me. In the corner of the room, the sound of raspy breaths and low mumbles caught my attention.

He was still there.

This was the breaking point of my patience, I'd listened, I'd kept my silence but not anymore. I felt this fire find its way through my chest and up to my throat that tasted bitter, yet surprisingly satisfying. I slowly walked towards his hunched frame in the corner of the room, crouching down so I was at his level, down in the depths of hell and spoke.

"Don't think for a second I believe this insanity bull shit, you are either doing this yourself or someone has told you to, I'm thinking its the latter,"

He looked directly at me, through the blood now drying on his face and smiled, almost impressed, the first sign of sanity I'd seen in the last thirty minutes.

"For a stupid little girl you are smart, I'll give you that," He put his hand in his pocket, groaning as he did and pulled out a cigarette. He offered me one, but I just turned my nose up in disgust.

He put the cigarette between his lips, "Your boy there looks a hell of a lot like someone I know, it's uncanny,"

"Maybe his mother, the one you disregarded with the pull of a trigger,"

He ignored my comment, lighting the cigarette and taking a low drag. He revelled in the motion before blowing out the smoke into my face and I gritted my teeth, "I haven't had a smoke-like this in a long time, I can feel it in my chest,"

"I don't give a shit about your reminiscing," I was surprised at how harsh I sounded.

He chuckled raw and defiantly, "Well sweetie, there's a lot of shit I don't give a damn about too," He took another long drag, "If it wasn't for this shitstorm, I wouldn't have to act the fool,"

"I seem to think you love the show,"

"You seem to be right," He looked directly at me now, his eyes roaming my face trying to suss me out whilst I did the same to him, " You're probably wondering whether I actually did it, hell yeah I did, that type of job pays,"

My eyes widened as the realisation hit me but I needed to hear the words from him, "What are you saying?"

"Darlin, I was paid to kill her,"

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