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Description
“Without much else to do I decided I’d just climb up to the bunk and get comfortable. I kinda had to pee, and couldn’t remember when I’d last used a toilet… but I wasn’t quite ready to drop my pants and use the scary looking cell toilet two feet from my drugged up cellmate. I would hold it for as long as I could, and cross that bridge when I couldn’t take it any longer. For now, all I wanted was to get up on that bunk, stop standing on the cold concrete, and to try and just clear my head and calm myself down.

Standing next to the bunks I suddenly realized how high off the ground the upper bunk was, and there wasn’t any kind of step or ladder to get up there. So I’d be relying on pure upper body strength to pull my ass up. Maybe not my ‘strongest’ quality. You know I can’t resist writing shit like that. Such a dork. Anyway, point being, the bunk was higher than the coma girl I was locked in with, and I wasn’t feeling wonderful about trying to get up there, but I had to go up there eventually, and being on the ground also sucked quite a lot, so up there is where I was going.

I quietly as I could crept over to the beds, and very carefully placed one foot up on the metal ledge of the lower bunk, then the next. I was pretty cautious not to step on the girl's mattress. I didn’t want to wake her up, and I felt like stepping on someone’s bed was easily going to be the kind of thing that would get me beat up if this girl turned out to be the angry violent type of druggie. Not my usual customers honestly, but they did show up. But that’s the nice thing about party drugs, everyone is pretty chill at least until the coke heads show up. I had no clue what this girl took, but the shit I sold didn’t really leave people on a come down like hers. For all I knew I was locked in with a meth head.

With one foot still supporting me on the lower bunk, I used my arms to pull myself up and got a foothold with my right knee. As I pressed into the bed air squealed as it seeped out of the mattress, and I felt the cool texture of the vinyl. I could not get the comparison of this mattress to the kind of crash matt I’d see in gymnastics class as a kid out of my mind. The material was thick and tough, and retained almost no heat. It was like a mattress covered in thick green plastic, sleek, and slightly glossy. I’d never thought I’d be sleeping in a bed like this in my life, but here I was. I pulled myself up onto the bunk, lay down on it and felt my whole body sink into the matt. Comfortable would not be the way to describe this bed. Better than a bench in a holding cell by a lot I guess, but it was thin, and firm, and I could definitely feel myself sinking through it to the point of feeling the steel bunk underneath.

The pillow and blanket didn’t make it much better. The blanket looked like it was wool, but it was clearly full acrylic, and it was rough and coarse, and too small to comfortably wrap yourself in. The pillow was also small, and felt like it was just a cheap sponge inside. It was kind of gross too. Like, as awful as the green plastic bed was, it was certainly sterile. You couldn’t stain it if you wanted to. It could be wiped down with disinfectant and it would be as clean as the day it was brought in. Smelt a bit like maybe that had been done too. There was some distinct industrial chemical smell coming off it. That pillow however was the opposite, yellowed with sweat stains. It smelled washed, but it looked like it had been through a full life of use.”

Description
“Without much else to do I decided I’d just climb up to the bunk and get comfortable. I kinda had to pee, and couldn’t remember when I’d last used a toilet… but I wasn’t quite ready to drop my pants and use the scary looking cell toilet two feet from my drugged up cellmate. I would hold it for as long as I could, and cross that bridge when I couldn’t take it any longer. For now, all I wanted was to get up on that bunk, stop standing on the cold concrete, and to try and just clear my head and calm myself down.

Standing next to the bunks I suddenly realized how high off the ground the upper bunk was, and there wasn’t any kind of step or ladder to get up there. So I’d be relying on pure upper body strength to pull my ass up. Maybe not my ‘strongest’ quality. You know I can’t resist writing shit like that. Such a dork. Anyway, point being, the bunk was higher than the coma girl I was locked in with, and I wasn’t feeling wonderful about trying to get up there, but I had to go up there eventually, and being on the ground also sucked quite a lot, so up there is where I was going.

I quietly as I could crept over to the beds, and very carefully placed one foot up on the metal ledge of the lower bunk, then the next. I was pretty cautious not to step on the girl's mattress. I didn’t want to wake her up, and I felt like stepping on someone’s bed was easily going to be the kind of thing that would get me beat up if this girl turned out to be the angry violent type of druggie. Not my usual customers honestly, but they did show up. But that’s the nice thing about party drugs, everyone is pretty chill at least until the coke heads show up. I had no clue what this girl took, but the shit I sold didn’t really leave people on a come down like hers. For all I knew I was locked in with a meth head.

With one foot still supporting me on the lower bunk, I used my arms to pull myself up and got a foothold with my right knee. As I pressed into the bed air squealed as it seeped out of the mattress, and I felt the cool texture of the vinyl. I could not get the comparison of this mattress to the kind of crash matt I’d see in gymnastics class as a kid out of my mind. The material was thick and tough, and retained almost no heat. It was like a mattress covered in thick green plastic, sleek, and slightly glossy. I’d never thought I’d be sleeping in a bed like this in my life, but here I was. I pulled myself up onto the bunk, lay down on it and felt my whole body sink into the matt. Comfortable would not be the way to describe this bed. Better than a bench in a holding cell by a lot I guess, but it was thin, and firm, and I could definitely feel myself sinking through it to the point of feeling the steel bunk underneath.

The pillow and blanket didn’t make it much better. The blanket looked like it was wool, but it was clearly full acrylic, and it was rough and coarse, and too small to comfortably wrap yourself in. The pillow was also small, and felt like it was just a cheap sponge inside. It was kind of gross too. Like, as awful as the green plastic bed was, it was certainly sterile. You couldn’t stain it if you wanted to. It could be wiped down with disinfectant and it would be as clean as the day it was brought in. Smelt a bit like maybe that had been done too. There was some distinct industrial chemical smell coming off it. That pillow however was the opposite, yellowed with sweat stains. It smelled washed, but it looked like it had been through a full life of use.”