I’ve been trapped in my ce
ll for over a week at this
point. I’ve been extremely patient all this time. I’ve
barely slept, keeping a watchful eye on all that goes on.
I’m tired, and I’m hungry.
There must be a way to
escape, and I’ve been determined to find it.
Every timethe assholes chain me before meals, I pray that theyforget to turn the lock. All through lunch and allthrough dinner I subtly yank on the chains when they
aren’t looking. Every time the lock is
secure. My patience has been giving away to anger. Thefucking faces of the watchers are everywhere now, and
the taunting becomes crueler. They’re eating pop
cornnow while they stare at me.
They’re eating fuckingpopcorn! It’s written on the side of colorful boxesthey’ve been carrying with them! I walk around my cel
starving, and they’re munching on fucking snacks.
They even throw it at me. The pieces hit the bars of my
cell and fall just outside my reach. They think it’s
funny. They know nothing. As the watchers continue to laugh and joke and throw
things at me, I continue to test the bars. I’ve devised a
certain method that allows me to test the strength of every bar while appearing random. There are 26 barstotal. I counted them. I shake bar number one in the topleft corn
er of my cell. It doesn’t budge. I smile for the
watchers. I pace a little. I go to the right side of my cell.
I shake bar number 26. It doesn’t budge. I continueuntil every bar is checked… 5… 16… 21… 25… 10…7… the same order as yesterday… the same order
tomorrow. The fucking bitches love it when I rattle abar.
They don’t know what I’m really doing. They think I’m dumb. They think I’m just a co
ld-blooded killer.They know nothing.