I won't take shit from anyone anymore. Old Kenny would have helped naturally; new Kenny is an emotional wreck that curses his mother and sister; then what's a strange guy to me?
Nothing.
I felt emotionally exhausted and knew that I had to improve my ability. I shouldn't have asked the guard to let me touch his keys, I should have asked him to let me touch his gun. Then everything would go so much faster. Though, I couldn't say if I could even conjure up a functioning gun.
I doubt Teddy would call back his hounds. There has to be a confrontation, so let's just wait and see. I only have to hope that my future won't change, and that I am still alive in a few years to get my role as the chief.
My cellmate looked at me now and then. Ah right, he hadn't seen me act until now, and although he should this time not really have seen it as well, the proximity should let him know what I had done. He wasn't present in the showers, the last time.
"I won't hurt you..." I mumbled, and he didn't look up at me again.
Feeling like crap, I was escorted to the white room, where I had my second set of four hours to sit and getting filmed. I reminded them again about getting my attorney, but no reaction from the cameras, of course.
Sitting in my corner, I closed my eyes, wanting to sleep, only to flinch awake every few minutes, like something was haunting me.
Finally, I felt like I had crazy heart palpitations in this half-asleep-state and gave up on that. Instead, I counted the fucking white tiles.
Fucking white tiles, were still better than fucking green tiles, so yeah. But tiles are initially cold and hard, but easier to clean; still, I don't like them.
That reminded me, my hands were still all bloody.
While counting the tiles, I scratched the dried up food again hands, with that having plenty to do now because I didn't use the shortcut math, instead counting each of them and making mistakes along the way.
Four hours were still a fucking long time.
I was drained when brought out and directly taken back to dinner. I should train my body tomorrow in the white room.
Nothing happened during dinner, and I got paranoid that my cellmate hated me. I asked the prison guards to get me to the yard because I wasn't outside today, where I took a walk before going to bed in my cell.
The next day, this shit continued, followed by the day after.
Now it was waking, eating, white room, eating, walking, white room, eating, cell.
The white room that originally had pissed me off turned into my napping place. The first four hours I worked out, after the second four hours I slept. Instead, I trained my ability in my cell at night instead of sleeping.
Three things were still the limit, and I never got a look into the future again, as if that part of my ability was still recovering by looking too far into the future.
A month went by like this, every day the same, but while I started to focus more on myself instead of my anger, and also with hope to get out and a goal in my mind, it went well. My attorney never showed up, and I had not the privilege to make calls or write letters, so I couldn't ask what the problem was, nobody was responsible for these requests. It was so fucking laughable.
I stopped speaking with my cellmate, and he also got no more cake because I got the feeling that he didn't want to be near me, maybe it was only in my mind, no idea.
The baldies didn't come for me for now, but what started as giving me looks had now morphed into giving me faces, and, into them talking and laughing when they saw me. Like in fucking high schoolers. However, seeing that they started to get courage, it should soon be time. The moment they attacked me, I just had to hope it wasn't somewhere with cameras.
If they had a deal with the prison that so desperately wanted to know about my ability, then it would be over immediately. But it didn't matter; they can go and take me to experiment; I don't care.
When I lay in bed on one of these entirely mundane days, we experienced an earthquake. Some alarms went on, the whole prison went restless, and the prisoners were acting out. Everything shook so heavily that I thought for a moment that the apocalypse had come. In this country, earthquakes are not common, so it was my first time experiencing one.
Jumping out of my bed, I met my cellmate's eyes,
"You good?" I asked amid the alarm, and the flickering red lights outside our cell. He nodded at me and pointed at myself.
"Yeah." I patted his head, and gave him cake.
Like this, we got friends again, and continued our talking sessions on the floor the next day.
The next day, I heard the prisoners talking about the earthquake, and that it had destroyed parts of the city. Hadn't thought it was that big of a deal, but yeah. Inside this prison, it is like a world on its own, but it's true, there is still an outside. Occasionally, it's easy to forget.
Now I had to find out a way to contact the old mummy and my friends, about whether they were fine.