It was a quiet night. We weren't allowed out of our cells. For a long-time prison like Doafen, the rules were different than short-term prisons. Doafen allowed each level three main activities: outdoor time, exercise, and meals, and each level acted as though a unit.
Each level would switch off each day in their activities time. The first day, level one would have the morning for outdoor time, level two would get taken out when it was afternoon, and level three would have to wait for night. Then the process would restart the next day. It was the same process for exercise time. Level one would go at night, level two would be in the morning and level three would have the afternoon. Therefore, none of the levels ever mixed.
Meals were the only time that all three levels could interact with each other, but even then, there were rules. We were heavily guarded, with more guards in the mess hall than each level had itself, and if something that even looked like a fight broke out, the fighters would lose certain privileges. Usually it would be a meal or two.
Other than lunch, you always had to stick with your level. Those were the rules, and we all knew them. If someone was caught separate from their group, or somewhere they shouldn't, they'd receive strict and harsh punishment. I speak from experience.
The exercise we were allowed consisted of a small room where we'd all stand in a line and perform moves the prison instructor would do. It wasn't optional either.
Outdoor time was my favorite, though. Each level would shuffle to a small, constricted, outdoor clearing surrounded by a metal fence that were covered in metal spokes.
But for that hour and a half we were allowed outside, every breath of fresh air was a gift.
"Hasn't anyone tried to climb the fence?" Cedric asked me during our outdoor time.
I gave a sideways glance. "You can't. The metal is pricked with spikes, as small as they are. They'd be bleeding all over if they even got two inches off the ground."
He continued to study the fence. I wandered away from him, wanting to talk with my friend Zelda. She had been in Daofen longer than I, and older than I, but since I came she had always been friendly.
"Who's the boy?" she asked, her brows raised in judgment.
I snorted quietly. Cedric was immediately recognizable. He was still new in his prison clothes, wearing them exactly how they're supposed to be worn. Most of us fashioned out clothing subtly in different ways, almost so that we could have individualism. I personally had my sleeves rolled up to my elbows and my top few buttons unbuttoned. If we were too obvious, the guards would make you dress properly.
Zelda had her shirt tied at the bottom, and her pants leg was ripped. Mostly from the punishments she had received, but she fashioned them in a way that looked like it was on purpose. I envied her ability to transform something like holes and rips into fashion. I myself had plenty of holes and rips, but couldn't do much about them. She even made her dirty blonde hair look good.
I shrugged. "He came into my cell only yesterday. Hasn't talked much."
Zelda watched him for a bit. He stuck to a corner, watching the inmates wander around. His sharp hazel eyes didn't miss a detail – never staying in one spot and always noticing new details. He was like a hawk stalking his prey.
"Doesn't seem like much. Wonder why he's in here," she said.
I didn't respond. I was wondering the same thing, but if he wasn't going to offer the information, I wouldn't push. I'd know sooner or later.
"So, Aelia," Zelda turned back to me, "what's new? I don't see any new bruises or cuts, so I can guess you haven't annoyed anyone with that big mouth of yours." She and I exchanged smiles. That insult has been a running joke between us for years.
"What's new, Zelda? We saw each other yesterday," I pointed out.
She shrugged. "How have the dreams been?"
I picked at my nail. Inside, I could feel myself closing up. Tensing up. "They've, er... been fine. Haven't had any since." I swallowed, hard.
She didn't say anything for a moment, but instead looked at me with a concerned gaze. Her concern for me was in a loving, caring way, but at that moment, all I felt was pity.
"Since when?" she asked softly.
I looked up then looked back down. "Since a week ago. And that one was just a second or two. The headache only lasted a couple of minutes."
"What did you see?"
After a moment of thinking, realization dawns on me. It was so unexpected that I actually stumbled back. I stared at the boy across the yard.
"Aelia?" Zelda prompted, following my line of sight.
"It was him," I heard myself say. "I saw him."
"The new inmate?"
I turned back to Zelda. "Or... but how could I dream about someone I've never met?"