It was Timothy holding the forty-five in both hands and throwing up empty gasps of inner turmoil. His guts were tight and his ears were ringing.

Two of the bodies were twitching. He had shot all three of them to death, lots of people had seen it, because after he fired the first shot, everyone out at Jile's Kegger looked at the parked cars where the shot had exploded. Then about ten or so more shots as he gunned down the three boys that had bullied him all through high-school and had put their filthy hands on Piper. She had some of their blood sprayed onto her and she was standing still with her palms upturned. She wasn't processing that Timothy had brought a gun...and killed Marcus, Michael and Mod. She started smiling, a curious reaction, she was in shock and also she was high.

Timothy, now much older, awoke in the cold gray place. The quiet place that could be loud. Aricko Prison.

Everyone knows all about Aricko Prison, and that is where Timothy now lived. But there was horror in his coming days. He had resigned himself to live in Aricko for the rest of his life, every once-in-awhile he appealed for fun but sofar he had only gotten one of his life-sentences reduced.

At this time in his life he lived here. This was home, the cold and the gray. He had killed them, confessed he had done it on purpose, had rehearsed drawing the gun and shooting them in the exact way he had. Three life sentences. Aricko. Home.

Now something horrible had come, some new thing from outside that wanted to take Timothy away from home. This was where he lived now, where he went to school, where all of his friends were. He had spoken with the warden, Warden Michaelson, a towering man that looked and sounded exactly like Ving Rames and he had apologized to Timothy. New case law was presented.

It was an atrocity! This darkness had crept in day by day as the State Supreme Court re-examined his case. It was precedented in this state to release prisoners like Timothy when it could be found in case law that a plausible defense was not considered by the court. It was called the "Act of Unbiasing {R.1.2.8.9}" and a public outcry for Timothy's release had followed the release of Ronin Vorgin, a man that had systematically shot and killed five assailants, one of them shot in the back while fleeing. Ronin had confessed to all five counts as first degree murder. The five assailants had harrassed Ronin on many occasions and Ronin had practiced with a handgun until one day they were bullying him and he drew his weapon and quickly shot all five of them to death. He had received five life sentences for five counts of first-degree murder. Later the case was overturned and Ronin went free because of the technicality that a plausible defense was not considered by the court.

It was the victim's initial role as assailant that made the charge of first-degree murder biased in the first place. No plausible defense was even allowed after the confession. This was late seen as an injustice and the case was overturned. Now they wanted to overturn Timothy's case, a famous but much older case.

He had seen television shows about crime or the state featuring a segment on him. He wasn't surprised the world outside knew about him. It just made the world outside that much scarier. Everyone would know him but he would be a stranger among strangers. Like that Hemmingway book. Timothy said so to Warden Michaelson. The warden shook his head and corrected him:

"Heinlein. You getting enough sleep?" Warden Michaelson asked him.

"Oh you're right, it was Heinlein. Hemmingway never wrote anything that good. Silly me. Sleep? Whats that for? Guy's been awake since the second world war."

"I think I am beginning to see your point, Timothy. You are what I would call an 'institutionalized' inmate. You see this as your home now, it is all you know. You have no living family members outside. The world is grabbing at you, calling to you. You're afraid to go out there." Warden Michaelson knew his prisoners well. He was their god.

"Can I come back and visit? Or become a guard?" Timothy asked.

The warden shook his head slowly, sadly. Technically this could be, but he knew it would not be healthy for Timothy to try to cling to prison. He made a decision to tell him he could not do either of those things.

Silence in the warden's office. Tears fell out of Timothy's eyes and rolled down his cheeks. This was the worst of it, he hoped.

"I am afraid the news is that you are to be released." the warden told Timothy.

The pain in the prisoner's heart swelled to his throat. He had a tightness, a lump in his throat. His tears flowed as he felt the agony that he would certainly be cast from his home. Aricko would become his past.

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The darkness, the madness and the unknown awaited him outside. Out there he was no longer among the men that had become like his family over the decades. Out there it was night, it was winter. Only the eyes of strangers and strangeness.

He knew things had changed a lot. Computers were on five- and three-quarter floppy disk drives when he went in. Now everybody carried a phone that was smarter than they were. Cars drove themselves. The internet.

He barely remembered the world he had left, and it no longer even existed out there. Everything was different and he knew nobody out there. All his close family had died off over the years. Timothy had spent his life in Aricko.

That night he lay awake. The warden did not tell him how much longer he had. He wondered if it would be days or weeks? How long until the orders to release him were carried out? His eyes were wide in the dark as he lay in mortal dread of the coming doorway into the white.

In the morning he had not slept again, and the warden had him brought to his office again.

"I was told you aren't feeling well today. My guards tell me you seem depressed and tired." the warden spoke after a few minutes of silence in the office. Just the ticking clock. Peaceful, sanctuary.

Timothy was feeling drowsy and nodded off right in front of the warden. He awoke on a cot, still in the office. It was night. A guard sat at the warden's desk reading something on his phone.

"I'm awake." Timothy told him.

"Just a minute." the guard responded. He focused on his phone a moment longer, then he took Timothy to his cell.

"Hungry?" the guard asked.

"Yes."

"Its cheeseburgers tonight. I will be right back, okay?"

"Another of my favorites. What a coincidence."

"Everyone knows you are leaving."

"When am I leaving?"

"Soon. There is a pool, you want in?"

"Uh yeah. How about another year. Can I stay another year?"

"Funny as always, Timothy. I'll have them added, its one pack."

"Okay, I think I can afford that." Timothy said to the guard as he left him there to go get cheeseburgers for him.

He felt a little better from the sleep he had gotten. Also, Timothy felt a little better after he had eaten in his cell. It was considered a privilege to eat in the cell. They were letting him have all the privileges. From the perspective of the guards, Timothy was a free man behind bars right now. A civilian waiting to happen.

It was soon morning, and he went and played a game of basketball.

Afterwards it was Johnny's birthday, one of the officers who had gotten a blood transfusion from a prisoner after an accident in the machine shop. Every year on his birthday the warden brought doughnuts for the guards and also for the prisoners and they formed two lines to each get a doughnut. Then they all sang happy birthday and there was a talent show sometimes too. They did all of that.

The talent show was a full list, rap battles, drag queens and some musical instruments mostly. There were musical numbers and skits and standup comedy. It was great.

That night Timothy prayed. He prayed that a technical reason why he couldn't be released would be found. He begged God to make the paperwork for his release get bogged down in red tape and that Jesus would personally bless any bureaucrat that added to the complexities of paperwork that might keep him in prison longer. Then he thanked God for all of his friends in Aricko and asked for a special blessing on the warden, a man so dedicated to his work that he looked down on his prisoners as if they were his sons. Then he fell asleep, mid-prayers.

"Timothy?" it was the warden's voice.

"No." Timothy woke up and felt hot tears welling up in his eyes.

All the guards were there. They read him a pardon from the state governor and then the doors were opened, and they led him towards the entrance of Aricko.

Slowly they walked him towards the big doors. He shuffled along with his feet reluctantly. He could barely breathe.

The unknown and the very terrifying was on the other side of those doors.

The doors would open up and the light would be blinding and white. Nothing but empty whiteness beyond. It was another world out there, a hostile and inhospitable world. Out there it was the desert, it was the wasteland.

Banishment, exile, outcast. He tried to speak and only said:

"No, I can't go."

Nobody spoke back they just kept him walking forwards towards the two great doors. A loud buzzing went off to indicate that these doors were opening.

Slowly the doors opened and the cool breeze of an outside world predawn touched his face. The cool breeze smelled of the unknown and he associated the lavender and lime-mist on the cool breeze with utter dread of the unknown. He stopped and, in his terror, began to dry heave.

The warden made them all stop for a moment and put his hand on Timothy's shoulder.

"Are you okay? It is almost done. You are almost out."

"No, I'm not okay. Is there any way we can wait to do this? I am not ready." Timothy begged, gagging a little on the taste in his mouth.

"No. It is time now." the warden replied. He helped Timothy along and soon they had stepped out into the cool morning air. The sun would come up soon.

"There is someone here for you. Tomorrow morning you have some appointments. The state is going to help you get back on your feet. Today, when the sun comes up, I want you to just relax, take it easy. You have an old friend waiting for you." the warden told Timothy.

Then Warden Michaelson and the guards went back inside, and the doors closed behind them.

Alone.

Timothy stared at the outside of Aricko bewildered.

"Timothy?" a woman's voice. He turned and beheld Piper.

"It's me..." she pointed to herself, about to say but he spoke her name for her, recognizing her after all these decades.

"Piper. Yeah, it's you. I am sorry I am surprised."

"Well, you should be. I waited this whole time for you. Still a virgin."

"Bullshit." Timothy laughed. She laughed too.

"No, I am actually a grandmother. Let's get going." she smiled. Same old Piper. Timothy smiled too.

Grandkids. Maybe the outside world wasn't entirely night.

As they drove away from Aricko, the sun began to rise.