Moonlight Sonata

1. Old bones

Everything was...light.

There was never any darkness here. Hell, we were lucky if one of the lights broke. Even through my eyelids I could count the fluorescent bulbs above my head, but I could practically do that from memory already. After all, I've been stuck in here for what, over a year now? I lost track when it hit my birthday again, and I was seriously missing the shitty, two-faced company of my foster family. I missed the peeling wallpaper and creaky floorboards, but what I missed most of all? You could probably guess.

"I smell flowers."

"Don't get started on this again," A woman with an accent hushed me, and I lifted my head from my cot to look at her.

"I miss music." I sighed, batting a few eyelashes at her. Devorah looked maybe twenty or even younger, with tangled, matted black hair and sunken eyes. They must have been a shining chocolate at one time, but now they just seemed black. The distinct smell of soot and death wafted from her form, but after a few months, I'd gotten used to it.

"Then sing." She said sarcastically, and I just rolled to look at the ceiling. Four lights, as always.

"Maybe they'll bring us a knife with today's food."

"You know we're not allowed near sharp objects."

"My friend dug his tracker out with a plastic spoon once. A plastic-fucking-spoon."

"You've told me the story."

"Look, I'm just...you know." I sat up suddenly, throwing the thin sheet from me in a fit of irritation. My feet hit cold cement, and I could barely tell the temperature change. "Is it cold in here?"

"A little." She shrugged, and I gave up with a sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry," I said suddenly, plopping down on my cot and burying my head in my hands, "I've had four nosebleeds within the last week. I'm getting...antsy."

"Oh, I can tell," she laughed tiredly, but genuinely, "you and I both, Agnes."

"It's been what, almost a hundred years for you?" I asked, rubbing the bridge of my nose. My hieroglyph tingled and my nose started to feel better.

"Just about," Devorah nodded, "I've been stuck in A Class ever since I decimated that camp..."

"Well, they deserved it," I raised my hand in the air as if to toast a glass, "cheers to killing the enemy."

"You're staring to lose it, aren't you?"

"GOD I'M READY TO FUCKING DIE!" I shouted suddenly, walking over to the door and slamming my hand into the solid metal. It dented, but it was surrounded by many others like it.

"Agnes-!"

"I wish they would've given me something to hang myself with! There's no rafters in here!" I gestured to the ceiling, letting out an exasperated shout. "I'm dying of boredom!"

"Yeah, that kind of sucks for you, doesn't it?" Devorah snorted, and I whirled around, glaring at her, "I mean, you don't get a cellmate change every ten years."

"I'm this close," I held my fingers together closely, "to going ballistic. The next time they open that door, I'm going apeshit on whoever's standing there."

"Remember last time you tried that? They almost killed you," Devorah stood up suddenly, her face in mine, "you need to take it down a notch, or I'm going to do it for you."

"Fucking come at me then!" I shouted, backing up and putting my hands up, "I may have a suppressor in my arm, but I've still got the power of the Gods!"