Oh look, Fiction

Big Mike doesn’t speak.

In fact, the prevailing theory is that big mike has never spoken.

Some say that his mother did drugs, some say he was dropped on his head as a baby, some say his father poured chemicals down his throat as an infant or that he beat him for crying. But the fact is, for as long as he has been an inmate in the Illinois state correctional system, he has never uttered a single syllable.
Big Mike is exactly as he sounds: huge. He is six foot five and three hundred pounds of muscle and fat. He doesn’t need to speak to be intimidating. He just is.

Several times now some young newcomer has walked into here looking to take down the biggest baddest mother fucker, singled out Big Mike, and awoke to the annoying buzz of florescent hospital lights and the worst headache of their lives.
More conniving men have sought to have Big Mike play on their team, but Big Mike has always politely refused… or at least that’s how it seemed.
Big Mike keeps to himself. He reads, he works out, he sits in quiet contemplation, he doesn’t bother anyone and no one bothers him.

The first week of august something changed. Big Mike spent less time reading, eating , or working out and more time staring out the window, his face pressed against the bars hopelessly.
No one knew what Mike was looking at, the assumption was that he was finally going off the deep end.
On August 16th Big Mike was missing from his cell. The Prison was put on lockdown and when he wasn’t discovered search teams with blood hounds where deployed to search the surrounding area.

Big Mike had gotten out through a series of fortunate accidents. A door not fully locked, a guard looking the wrong way, a forgotten tunnel dug by previous escapees. He was across the yard and cutting through the fence before anyone even suspected he was gone. He was across the highway before he heard the alarm sounding. But he didn’t let that stop him.
Let them get me, He thought, So long as I get to her first.
He hustled through a stretch of trees unruly branches catching his uniform, slowing him down. He broke them with his huge hands. He wouldn’t let anything stop him.

By the next morning they had found Mike. He was about four miles south in a clearing , his arms wrapped tightly around a bundle and crying silent tears to himself.
Upon opening the bundle police discovered the body of 5 year old Tanya White, a local girl who had been missing since July 31st. Authorities were flabbergasted as to how Mike could have found her, and they even considered giving Big Mike an early parole hearing, despite his daring escape.
They questioned Mike repeatedly about how he knew that the girl’s body was there and if he knew anything else about her murder, but Big Mike stayed as silent as ever.
In the end it was easier to believe that Mike had found the girl’s body by accident, and he was shoved back in his cell to finish out the remainder of his sentence.

Mike sat, looking at his feet, small invisible hands on his knees.
Thank you, she whispered.
Looking up, she placed a tiny kiss on his tear-stained cheeks and walked off into the world beyond.

Goodbye, was all he thought.

*note* I drive past Statesville and Old Joliet Prison going to and from my Internship.
needless to say they got me thinking and last night I wrote this short story that is probably desperate for a professional's touch.
Still, I've decided to post it here for you all to see... mostly because i don't think i've ever written a story this short.