Trapped

2- Unfamiliar

          The rest of my day went on as usual, a hopeless concoction of chaos, misery and heartache. It had been just a couple hours since lunch. Jim had dragged me back to my cell just as violently as he had taken me out of it. I laid down on my sorry excuse for a bed and stared at the dull muted gray ceiling. My head throbbed as the familiar wave of despair washed over me, a feeling so cold, ruthless and unforgiving that my body felt paralyzed.

           I guess you could call it depression, something I had struggled with before ending up in this prison humorously disguised as a place to help me. Yet being here has made all hope of normality a mere joke. I scoffed at the thought of my life outside of this place, so long separated I'd lost hope of that life ever even being mine. I was unsure if I wanted it to be anyway.

         I grew up in a small town, population under one thousand small, a single blip long forgotten on a map inhabited by many others more important than I. As an orphan my life never seemed to have much purpose, in and out of foster homes, constantly packing my things. People and objects long forgotten as I lost myself with each move, each sympathetic gaze and each friend lost. No one wanted me then, my obvious signs of mental illness unnoticed by the apathetic eyes of the empty adults that surrounded me. I was never sure if I preferred the homes that abused me or the ones who looked at me with such sympathy that I was no longer a person to them, only a charity case to gawk at.

         It was only until I snapped that the government ruled me a danger to myself and others, my rights quickly stripped away soon after that and, well, you know the rest. My life outside of these walls was never one to be desired, however, I'd go back to it any day if it meant getting out of here. A lonely life leads to a lonely path I suppose, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.

        I was ripped away abruptly from my thoughts as I heard the large titanium door to the left of my cell creak open once again. Although I had no possible way to tell what time it was due to the lack of windows or any type of clock, I knew it was too early for Jim to be back. He typically only graced me with his presence when it was for our lunch and dinner 'breaks.' I shuddered at the thought of having to lay eyes on the unmerciful creature that would soon step foot in front of the dim light overhead.

         As if on cue Jim's uneven frame stepped into the dim light. It flickered as he looked at me, the electronic sound bouncing off the walls in the otherwise eerily silent room. His eyes met mine and I instantly looked away, something about him always made me feel like a caged animal, silent and afraid. I didn't even have to look back towards the monster's face to hear the grimace in his voice as he spoke,

         "Our establishment has run into a little," he paused to pick dried food out of his stubble, "problem." I looked back towards him, wondering how this had anything to do with me, a scowl painted across my face. Nevertheless, he continued,

          "We are at capacity. You fucking crazies can't seem to keep yourselves out of trouble, can you?" He spat on the ground in contempt, "we have new patients coming in despite how many times I've told the fucks we can't." He spat the words at me in such a way that, if I didn't know any better, I'd think I was said "fucks."

            "So, we have no choice but to introduce the concept of roommates, you're one of our least...dangerous crazies, so you're getting a roommate first." His eyes met mine once more, his look so carnivorous I felt like backing against the wall. I could tell him saying I was the least "dangerous" was far too close to a compliment for his liking as his eyebrows curled downwards into a frown.

            I nodded, almost wanting to laugh at seeing him so unnerved over our little capacity problem. Personally, it's the last thing I cared about, this wouldn't change anything for me. I'd still get beaten senseless and I'd still get fed slop like an elderly pig long given up on by its handler. I'd still be seen as much less than a human and I'd still spend my days staring hopelessly at a blood-stained wall. I looked back up at Jim, watching as a couple of flies darted around his face as he remained somehow oblivious, a far away look painting his face.

         "Nothing to your cell will change," he began once again, "I'm not adding a fucking bed as this isn't a day care, you two crazies can figure it out. Goodnight." Before I could have any chance of rebuttal, or even a chance to simply react, he stormed back down the hallway. The sound of his footsteps echoed against my throbbing skull as he stomped his oversized feet like an upset toddler towards the door. I figured it would be one of the nights he would withhold dinner from me, considering his "goodnight" comment. Nothing new yet my stomach still churned at the thought.

         I held my breath until I heard the large metal door slam shut once more, with the monster now gone I could finally think.

         A cellmate seemed interesting, and not in a good way. My cell being so small it seemed entirely impossible to fit two people in it. And with one bed? I audibly scoffed at the thought. Privacy was not an option, nor was my safety. Knowing the atrocious "organization" of this prison this new roommate of mine could either be a serial murderer or someone with mild depression. They could be a woman or a man, a child or an adult, they could be anything really. No one would care, they never have.

        I laid back down on my mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling. I felt the usual jaws of loneliness eat away at my very being, a melancholy feeling that reminded me of all the pain and suffering I could only pray to one day be forgotten. Perhaps a roommate would aid against this monster, yet I knew better than to get my hopes up. For anything.

         For once, however, I had an unfamiliar feeling. Excitement, no I wouldn't call it that. Curiosity perhaps. Curiosity of what I had unknowingly and unwillingly gotten myself into and curiosity of what would happen to me next. God knows it can't be anything good, can it?

       I took a deep breath and let it exhale through my nose before closing my eyes. I turned towards the wall, pulling my knees up to my chest like a child. As I began to cry I could only pray to one day be freed of this diabolical prison.  Something new couldn't hurt, at least not as much as this does.