Come With Oz Drabble Tree If You Want To Live
This is our 10th DRABBLE TREE! It's hard to believe that we've made it this far. There may be a special bonus for anyone who contributes more than 10 drabbles to the tree, but you'll have to wait and see! If you want, take a look at the other nine drabble trees: The First Ever Oz Drabble Tree, The Return of Oz Drabble Tree, The Little Oz Drabble
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Comments 39
For most of his life Tobias Beecher just did not understand how hard it was to earn respect from others. The fact that he made more in an hour than most people made in a month and being a Beecher did not hurt either. But that all went out the window the second he arrived at Oswald and stepped off the bus. It did not take him long to realize just how difficult it was going to be to earn some here. Here is bank account and last name meant jack shit. Life behind bars was like living on a different planet.
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They stepped off the bus, knowing what to expect, but at the same time, feeling like little fish in a big new pond. Even the old timers, the ones that knew their way around Oz, were starting at the bottom here - new place, new rules, new people to fight or fuck, new scams to conduct. Depending on how one looked at it, it was either a golden opportunity to take advantage of a group of prisoners who didn’t know who they were dealing with or a place to lay low and bide one’s time before the return trip to Oz.
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Dino was Sonny, and Petey was Fredo; now all Nino had to do was find Micheal. It was really getting ridiculous, the whole golden boy thing. Didn't help that Joey had been getting all sorts of crazy ideas about it, either. Well, Dino had other plans. Maybe Nino had figured it out already. Nothing ever got past the man...
But then again, he was probably too full of himself to see. The honorable position wasn't worth the trouble. Losing his life, his family, his freedom. In the end, they had all lost everything.
There was no going back now. Time to go make Sanchez feel golden.
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He had heard that same old line over and over. No one ever gave a shit about one Chris Keller because he wasn't worth the trouble. And after hearing it time and time he started to believe them. That is why he started acting out. The only way to get anyone to focus on him was to cause some trouble. It had worked when he was a kid and it still worked today. But there was a flaw in his plan. The pained looked Beecher gave him whenever he did something bad. After all these years could there actually be someone who thought he was worth the effort?
He had heard that same old line over and over. No one ever gave a shit about one Chris Keller because he wasn't worth the trouble. And after hearing it time and time he started to believe them. That is why he started acting out. The only way to get anyone to focus on him was to cause some trouble.
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Lights on, breakfast, work detail, lunch, dinner, lights out. Those were the only actual state mandated requirements of a day in Oz. Everything else, everything else was simply to pass the time. The worst enemy in Oz was time, and its corollary, boredom. Everyone around him was 'doing time', but what do you actually do with time? Play cards, watch tv, shank a man, make a call, shoot pool, start a fight, go to group, give a beating, get fucked, fall in love, break a bone.
All just ways of doing time. Only problem is time does you right back.
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Miguel looked out of the pod onto 'Em City'. It was lights out. This was the time that some inmates dreaded or craved. He glanced over and saw Tobias Beecher looking smug and expectant. Now, there was one man who used to dread the night. He looked across the quad, at Torquemada in his pod. The freak was trying to eye fuck him. There was a confrontation coming with him, but not for a couple weeks.
“Come to bed, “ Ryan's voice floated up from the darkness. Miguel turned and slid into the bottom bunk next to the Irishman.
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Most people would expect a man like Chris Keller to have no fear. That a man who has taken as many lives as his to just laugh in the face of fear. But that was not the case. In fact there were about a million different things he would rather deal with right now that this. He would rather take on a whole pack of rabid Nazi's armed with only a spoon that what he was currently starring down. He dreaded days like this.
Tobias sighed in frustration. "God just get over it Chris. It is just fucking meat loaf."
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Shirley didn't fear death. What would she have to fear? She kept her cell comfy as was fitting for a woman's home. Paid attention to her appearance as befitted a lady. Plus she was charming and tried to make the people around her happy. But must importantly, she had defeated the Devil's plans for her several times. Her hanging would be a victory dance to spite him.
So she had no fear, until she saw the noose. Then the fear tore through her limbs, flooded her senses. Her final moments, like so much of her life, were filled with fear.
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He almost missed the arrogant one. This one wasn't so pretty. At least, not when he cried like that, all covered up in shit. "You used to be so neat and clean," Simon mused, relishing the sight before him - the relief that had turned to sheer terror. Then surrender. No screaming, fighting. No more of that. Never again, he would make sure of it.
He trailed the wet towel down flushed cheeks, thinking of the things he'd like to do. When the world becomes his...
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Beecher let out a sigh of disappointment as he looked around his dirty apartment. You used to be so neat and clean he told a voice inside of his head said. "Yeah well use to be high price lawyer whose suits cost more than what I make in a month now." Prison has a way of changing you, like making you talk to your dead lover. There was a time when he tried to ignore Keller just hoping the delusion would go away but that didn't work. Now he just accepted the fact that he was fucking nuts. But hey at least he was never alone.
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Miguel hadn't realized the hunger he had for the night sky until he saw it again. He knew he needed to keep on running, or they'd catch him, but he couldn't help sparing a few minutes each night to stare at the stars. Before Oz had turned his days into an interlocked string of fear and boredom, he hadn't noticed things like how the stars looked liked diamonds against black velvet.
Enough of this romantic bullshit. He had to keep moving, and then when he was somewhere safe, he could spend as long as he wanted gazing at the sky.
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When he was younger Chris never really got the point of flowers, dates or any of that other romantic bullshit. Sure girls were supposed to like it but he got them to put out just as easy with having to use any of that crap. Was nothing but a waste of money. But now he was starting to have a change of heart. He kept having dreams about Beecher. Nothing new there but they had never been like this before. Gone were the ones about quickies in the shower or creative uses for Beecher's tongue and replaced with candle lit dinners and whispering sweet nothings while they looked up at the moon. Figures that would happen now that the rest of his life was going to be spent locked up. Life really loved to fuck him in the ass.
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Nino and I, we had dreams then...
"Oh, will you stop? Now why is it everytime we're on the same page - I told you a thousand times - "
"Sure...Mr. Nappa..." Nat Ginzburg winked.
Nappa sighed, end of his rope. "Will it help if I give Angie a bigger role?! I'll have you know, they got along better than we ever did!"
"Honey, fandom lesson #1, the two male leads will always be the fan-prefered couple, 'less it's yuri. And especially if they don't get along. It's called UST. Now, will I have to explain those to you too?...Antonio, you okay there?"
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Oz
Elliot Stabler had the strangest dream. There he was driving home from work, late as usual, and suddenly the road became unfamiliar. It was supposed to be downhill from the post office, turning at the next stoplight, but the path continued up. Until he was surrounded by trees, too dark to see much else.
That's where he found it. The small silver mirror laid out on the ground, under the dim light of the cresent moon. It was hardly the size of his palm. Although Elliot never had a thing for little trinkets such as that, he was almost sorry he couldn't take it with him as he woke to more familiar surroundings. Oz. The inscription lingered in his mind.
Pulling his black slacks over his blue briefs, he could have sworn he saw his reflection smile.
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There are times when he dreams, times when he gets flashes of the other him, the man that was always bad. He knows he’s still the same person because he continues to do bad things; only he doesn’t do them all the time. But now when he does bad things, people seem to get hurt, really hurt. Before, people only got hurt sometimes. Sometimes he only took things that weren’t his or scared people. When he’s having bad dreams about the person he is now, he can see that stranger and no matter what Ryan says, he knows everything is not okay.
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Turning at the stoplight, the post office came into view. Elliot Stabler rubbed his eyes, more weary than usual. It felt like he hasn't slept at all the night before. In fact, he could not remember how he found his way out of the woods, or arriving home. Then again, he's been on four hours of sleep per night (if he's lucky) for the past weeks. It would be time for a sick day if he worked any other type of job.
If it were any other job, he'd venture out into that little side street right there. Maybe the stranger in the mirror would be there, dying to meet him. That'll be a hell of a day off...
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As the days continue, Elliot finds his memory issues grow worse. There are whole blocks of time for which he can't account. He really needs to start getting more sleep, he thinks, as he opens the paper and takes a gulp of coffee. The overwhelming sense of déjà vu that comes when he reads the top story makes him cough.
"Lawyer Hits and Kills Nine-Year-Old Girl."
The picture of an arrogant looking man with blond hair makes his chest ache. He knows this man, but on reading the article, Elliot finds he's wrong, for he doesn't know a Tobias Beecher.
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