I’m at the state prison, seated in a small visitor’s room, drumming my fingers on the metal table.

It’s been 24 hours since I’ve been freed from my one-room nightmare. Continuing to wait patiently, I study the wrinkles on my hands, still trying to get used to the changes of aging, when the door suddenly swings open.

I look up, and a correctional officer meets my gaze and gives me a nod. Behind him walks in Marcus. I’m not sure if I would have recognized him if I hadn’t known it was him.

Marcus doesn’t look at me, just shuffles in, wearing a prison uniform, waiting for the correctional officer to unlock his handcuffs and shackles.

He slowly walks over, sits in the chair opposite of me, and finally makes eye contact. I can tell he doesn’t recognize me.

“Hello, Marcus.”

“Hi.” He responds. I wait, continuing to drum my fingers on the table. My silence seems to make him uncomfortable.

“So, who are you, and why did you want to see me.”

“I guess you don’t recognize me after all these years.” He looks away, boredom etched across his face as I continue. “Yeah, I wouldn’t care about the little high school girl who opened a safe full of useless lottery tickets, either.”

His eyes snap back to mine and studies my face for a moment.

“Robin?” I slowly nod my head. His face changes, and he lets out a half-hearted laugh.

“Where have you been all these years? You disappeared after we opened that safe, and no one ever heard from you again.”

I stop drumming my fingers on the table and lean forward.

“We opened the safe? You mean I opened it.” He waves his hand in the air in an act of dismissal.

“You know what I mean. What happened to you? Where did you go? The whole town was looking for you.”

“Ah, yes, I got sucked into some kind of limbo hell after opening that safe.” He sits and stares for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“You have one crazy sense of humor.” He chuckles as he sits back and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m getting out of here next week, finally made parole,” nodding in approval to himself.

“So I hear.”

Still chuckling, he asks, “So what did you do in this limbo hell?”

“Decide who would win the lotteries.” His smile drops off.

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“What?” He lets out a nervous chuckle. “That’s a strange thing to say.”

“After I opened the safe, I went back the next day. And to my surprise, I was transported to some kind of dark room where a man I had never met before explained how I would take his place, choosing who wins the lotteries.”

Marcus sits silently, studying me. So, I continue my story.

“It sounds crazy, saying it out loud, but that’s what happened. Punishment for your greed.” I tilt my head to the side. “Of course, the only way I was going to get out was when another person found and opened the safe to take my place.”

Marcus looks away, looking uncomfortable.

“I’m the reason Tim won lottery money.” I press on. “It was enough money to turn his life around but not enough to share; from where I was sitting, I knew that was the only way I could get back at you.” Marcus remains unmoving, not meeting my eyes.

“That isn’t even the funny part. When I did return to the ‘real’ world, I was rewarded with more money than I could ever dream of spending. More than you would have ever won in any lottery. And the only two things I could think about was how, because of you, my youth was taken away and that you killed Tim.”

“Why are you telling me all of this nonsense?” He fidgets in his chair, looking like he’s ready to end this conversation.

I ignore his question. “I have wondered what you whispered in Tim’s ear when he was bleeding out on the floor.” Marcus uncrosses his arm and leans forward in his chair, giving me a piercing gaze.

“How did you know about that?” He asks.

“Because I saw the whole thing.”

“But you weren’t there.” He says it almost as a question.

“Tell me, Marcus, what did you say to him? Don’t you want to tell someone after all these years?” Marcus looks away.

“I don’t remember.” He quietly says.

“You don’t remember? I find that hard to believe.” I scoff.

“It must not have been important enough to remember.” He shrugs, still not looking at me.

“You killed your best friend and don’t remember the last thing you said to him?”

“If we were that good of friends, he would have shared the money with me, and none of this would have happened.” He waves his hands around the room, indicating his present situation.

I lean back in the chair, slowly drumming my fingers on the table again.

“Don’t you want to know what I did with all that money I received?”

“I think I’ve had enough of your crazy talk.” He crosses his arms again, leans back in his chair, and takes a deep breath.

“Aren’t you just a little curious, Marcus?”

After a long pause, he finally says, “Sure, what did you do with it?” In an ‘I don’t care attitude.’

“After spending fifty years watching what other people did with their money, I knew I wanted to spend it on something that money couldn’t buy.” Marcus rolls his eyes.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure it does,” I say cheerfully. “I was 17 years old yesterday, and today I’m 67, and what do you think I am going to do now?” I ask sarcastically.

Marcus just stares at me, waiting to hear what I say next.

“I used that money to bribe the security guard to smuggle something into the prison for me.” I reach underneath the table and pull out a handgun that had been taped to the underside of the table.

As I pull the gun out, Marcus’ eyes widen, but then visibly relaxes. “You may be crazy, but you’re not a killer.” I laugh at this.

“If only you knew the people that died because of the choices I made.”

I pull the trigger, hitting him square in the chest. He grabs his chest as he slowly leans forward on the table. “Oh, Marcus, if only you hadn’t been so greedy, this wouldn’t be happening right now.” He manages to look up at me as I pull the trigger again. This shot ended his life.

I put the gun down on the table. The door swings open, and a guard comes rushing in when he hears the gunfire. He first looks at me and then at Marcus’ dead body.

“What?” He stammers.

I motion toward Marcus and say, “He wasn’t quite ready for his parole.”

I lean back in the chair and smile. “As for me, I think my stay in this prison will be much more pleasant than the one I was recently released from.”