Masculine cry.

"There are two kinds of people in the world," my mother always used to say. "There are people who run to a sound they're unfamiliar with when they hear it and there are those that run away from this sound." I think I finally understand what she meant. I run away from the sound but the sound always has a way of finding me.

This morning, the sound was a masculine cry. At first, I thought it was my stomach. I thought it could be Warden. But it was my cell phone vibrating on the nightstand and I couldn't believe who was calling. Bailey. I never gave him my number. I answered, suspiciously. He asked me if I was alright because I was late for chess club. It was 5:30 am--what the heck was going on? When I asked him if he was alright, he hung up.

I'm struggling with what to do. I don't really know Bailey, but I can't help but feel worried about his phone call.

Is this what Mom would call an "unfamiliar sound"? I know it is to me. What kind of person am I? I want to care and I don't want to care. In prison, Curt only had to worry about Curt. But this is not prison...