Get me out of here

Chapter 5. A glass of milk

Chapter 5. A glass of milk.

I sat ever so impatiently in the corner of my cell. I held my knees as tight as I could to my chest, tapping my foot against the cement floor.

Why was I trying yo blend in with the wall and make it look like no inmate was in the cell? I dont know. Perhaps to start off another alarm.

But my thoughts were elsewhere. I consentrated on the one spot on my bed and thought, how did the guards find out about the escape? This place is about as securly locked up as a cheap mouse trap. Unless of course it was that goodie goodie kid that tried to stop me from escaping from the prison. He could have easily ran into the camera room, woken up the sleeping security guards and set off the mind wrecking alarm.

But the only reason he'd do that is to prove just how GOOD he is to the guards and there for, judge, in his court case. But what the hell could that snotty kid do ever so horrible that they put him in here?

I groaned in frustration at just the thought oif him ruining my next attempt to escape.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes, they had gone a bit sore from glare.

I'm not going to allow him destory my next plan, I thought. There was only one thing that my "daddy" had taught me of use. Once a rat, always a rat.

Finally, I heard the cell dorr unlock and Chanel came in with a tray full of fresh hot food. The exquisite smell reached my nostrils and made my mouth water.

It was dinner time and Chanel had promised to bring something decent to eat today.

"Well, I hope it's somethin' bigger than a spider that's got you in the corner."

I laughed lightly and convinsingly, standing up.

"Please, Dear Chanel. I eat them for breakfast."

She laughed and said that now she knew what to bring me in the morning. Like there wasn't plenty of the things creeping around under my bed.

I got a better look at the food when I sat on the bed. That bright flash of unexpected light had obviously done some damage to my eyes.

Two drumsticks, straight from a sizzling pan, mashed potatoes, green veg; carrots, brocali, pepers, all chopped up on a clean dish with no mould on it. Sure, many would have this as their ordinary boring dinner. But when the only food you'd had was stale and covered in green patches, you tend to get excited about the simple things in life that you paid no attention to before.

On the tray was a glass if milk and cookies. I smiled at Chanel my thanks and dug in. I bit into the drumstick and the juicy fat burst onto my tongue, scorching it. But I didn't care. I stuffed three spoonfuls of mash and veg together and chugged it down with milk.

 "Hey, hey! Don't eat so fast or else you'll get a cramp!" Chanel said.

I didn't stop until my plate was three quarters empty.

I moaned. Chanel was right. I felt like I was stabbed in the gut. The feeling brought back old hateful memories that I didn't glance at the food a second time.

"Now see! See what happens?" said Chanel.

I gave her a scornful look and she rolled her eyes and put the dish with the cookies onto the bed.

"Keep them for later." Chanel said with a wink. "And I better be goin' to the next naughties."

Chanel never called us criminals or inmates or any sort of name to do with vandalism and murder. She still believed that there was good in EVERYBODY, even though it didn't show all the time.