88 - Pablo

In the days following Ramirez' death, it was hell to have to sleep alone.

I had constant nightmares. I watched his death with total impotence. I cried when I woke up and I cried when I slept. He spent his days with red eyes and his head hurting. In addition to all this, I also started to have increasingly constant crises due to shortness of breath. Everything seemed to be heading for my death, with each passing day, and my body seemed weaker. I was lazing inside that damn place. The coughs reached a point that no one else could ignore.

When I wasn't too busy monitoring the coughs, I was thinking about how much I had failed not to be with Ramirez at the time he needed it most. All I could have done, in fact, the least, was not to get involved in trouble with the hottest gang leader in the whole prison. I could have been very quiet, as he asked. Who knows all the time he spent asking me to cool my head, in fact it didn't sound like his killer to think he would be urging me to go after h