COLLAPSED ᵀᵂᴰ¹ ✔

04. riots

A heavy sigh left his lips as he sat up straight and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. It was almost time for breakfast and then he'd move on to the kitchen. He stood up and walked to the small sink, turned on the tap and threw some water in his face. Leaning his hands on the sink he started at himself in the mirror. He barely recognized himself. In the beginning he tried to stay  clean shaven but after a while he gave up. He never had a beard before in his life. It made him look older. He couldn't help but smile upon wondering what Quinn might say if she saw him like this. He wished she could visit more but since he'd been moved to this prison, she hadn't been able to. First he'd been in the local prison, close to her home but after he was moved it was almost a fourteen hour drive to where his sister lived. He knew she was barely getting by as it was. She didn't have the money to pay for the gas it would take to get here, or for the hotel to stay. He longed for every first monday of the month when he was allowed to have his one phone call. Hearing her voice was his lifeline in this hellhole.

A loud buzzing sound echoed through the prison, breaking him out of his thoughts. All at once the doors were opened. He threw one last look in the mirror and took a deep breath. There was no way he could prepare himself for another day in this hell but he didn't have much of a choice. So he pushed all the emotion from his eyes and put on the mask he used to wear when going out on the streets. Then he turned and made his way out his cell, down the stairs and towards the kitchen, staring straight ahead as he did so. He knew showing no signs of weaknesses was the only way to get by here. 

When he entered the kitchen his fellow cooks Oscar and Axel were already there, both were wearing aprons and were currently having a heated discussion about something. He tried his hardest not to grin at the sight. They looked like an old married couple.

'I'm telling you, man, it was all over the newspaper this morning,' Oscar spoke loudly.

Milo put on his own apron and gloves before heading toward the kitchen counter. 'What was?' He questioned, not able to stay out of it. He reached for the tomatoes and a knife and started cutting them while awaiting the answer.

'Oscar claims there have been reports of dead people walking, eating the living,' Axel said while reaching for a pan and putting it on the stove.

'Dead people? Walking?' Milo questioned, raising his eyebrows. 'That sounds like bullshit to me, Oscar.' A teasing smile appeared on his face before he was able to stop himself.

The black man shook his head while starting to cut the cucumbers. 'I thought so too, but there were these pictures, man, I'm telling you. It's real.'

'What do you think, Axel?' Milo said, turning to the inmate on his right who'd started peeling the potatoes.

Axel shook his head. 'I don't believe in the supernatural.'

Milo grinned and turned back to the tomatoes in front of him. 'There you go, Oscar.'

Oscar scoffed but didn't say another word as they went back to their duties. It was a ridiculous story but apparently to some people it was real enough to put it in the papers. Milo had never believed in anything supernatural. His mother did, she believed in God and prayed to him every evening. She taught him some prayers but after she died he had never felt the need to talk to God again. And after he heard his father yell curses to the sky when he'd drunk too much he knew for sure he wanted nothing to do with it.

A small sigh left his lips as he put down his knife and stared at the cut tomatoes. 'Alright, this stuff is ready-' He was interrupted by a scream followed by a gunshot. It sounded muffled and far away, but still too close for his liking. He turned to look at the other two men in the kitchen. He felt his stomach twisting with nerves. 'What the hell?' He mumbled.