• Black Eyes by David Rachels

    Before I started, Jerome told me he just wanted to live through it, which didn’t seem like much of a goal until I stuck the needle in his eye. Maybe the problem was my hand was shaking, or maybe I stuck the needle too deep, but once the steel tip went into his eyeball, Jerome’s new goal was to die as fast as he could. Or at least that’s what he told me when he stopped screaming.

    I yanked out the needle as soon as the screaming started, and I waited to see if a guard would come, but no guard came. The cells around us were quiet. Then Jerome told me how much it hurt, as if I hadn’t guessed, and I thought for sure we were done.

    But then he asked me how it looked.

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