The morning started off as usual- spine chillingly cold. Drawing in a breath hurt like fine needles in one's' nostrils. He could already feel the pain coming from his cracked skin. Especially his busted lip.
The alarm went off.
There it was, the deafening sound. "Ah…" he said under his breath. The sound of bodies hitting the floor shook the scrawny bed he laid on.
The prisoners had 10 minutes every 7am to get ready for the day.
"Is he smiling?" The squatter in his cell said as he came unusually close to his face. That pissed him off.
"Leave him. You know he's insane." His schizophrenic cellmate said. Roger believed every new inmate had a devil he had to subdue. He had murdered at least seven rookie inmates since his 'awakening' three years ago. He was serving ten consecutive life sentences.
In a regular state prison, that would warrant solitary confinement. In his facility, murder wasn't enough for that.
He had been Kent's roommate for five years. It was an impressive feat and earned him some fear.
He pulled his new friend away and Kent drew in another breath. He had a habit of befriending new prisoners until he removed them from earth.
The chaos from everyone getting ready somehow always helped to create heat. He hated that he woke up for what he knew to be three minutes before the prison alarm went off. His counting speed could be off- it always was.
He was a prisoner in a maximum security prison in Texas where solace was rare and so, like always, Kent decided to remain in bed for the 10 minutes he had to get ready and risk getting caught and beaten by security.
Kent's eyes darted to the two men getting ready in the cubicle of a cell. His roommate was a serial killer with a body count of 104 and all men. His new friend was probably an undiagnosed autistic man, Kent thought. He shrugged.
It didn't concern him what happened to a fellow inmate.
He also didn't mind getting caught. He had flaunted rules a calculated amount of times but since Rogers took charge of their wing, he had gotten beaten so many times and for the last time, his nose was broken into four pieces.
It took GenoRegeM and that cost over $7000. $7000 or a year of field work and that was a fancy name for the subject of ridicule and impossible tasks. Kent acknowledged the fact that his life could and was definitely on someone's back side.
It was a nice way of saying the life he led was worse than shit. Kent could hardly boast of a more decent life outside.
"At least I had mom and Brie." He mumbled.
He wasn't supposed to be here. He allowed himself to feel sorry for himself and attempted to sink deeper into the already worn out mattress. The metal bed frame pressed against his back.
He didn't always do this, but when Cynthia, the head female bodyguard, was extra handsy after dinner the night before, Kent was feeling extra irritated. It didn't help that today was the day.
"I hope your nose falls off this time." His darling roommate said before he and his friend exited the cell. "I hope they break both his legs." He added.
All the noise slowly escaped. It was time for rations and he had not moved an inch.
Kent began to count to 300. The main door opened again and footsteps troupe in.
"Kent! Don't tell me-" The familiar voice said as the hurried, strong footsteps came closer.
Sergeant Thomas. "He probably chose this unit because of me." Kent thought to himself as he erected himself in a second. A move only the sergeant knew.
"I saw that." The scrawny man with a crooked nose said. He took a liking to Kent the moment he saw him three years ago. He was late.
Kent had spent eight years in the facility before then. He wasn't sure his facility was a place that housed humans and he used to think that he was wrongly sentenced but now, he strongly believed that he was meant to be here. The universe could never be so cruel.
"Old man." Kent cracked a fake smile and scratched the back of his neck nervously. He could feel the dead skin cells piling up underneath his fingernails.
"Look at you, son. Your skin is falling off your bones!" Thomas exclaimed and Kent's face fell flat as he got up, lifting up his shirt to reveal his torn up and toned abdomen.
"Don't call me son." He said flatly as he removed his shirt completely. He walked to the sink and brushed his teeth, whistling as he did so.
"Hush! Be quiet. Are you trying to get beaten?" Thomas cautioned him. He could not help the soft spot he had for Kent. He was a rascal but he was also the only escape from the death of his family.
Kent continued brushing. He loved the feel of the bristles on his gum. When he first got sentenced, he couldn't believe it. The look of horror on his mother and sister's face and that of regret on the DA's face. His ears were ringing as he was pulled away by the warden and some men. The last thing he heard was his mother's scream.
When he opened his eyes he was dressed and his belongings were gone. He felt numb no matter what he did. He traded the money he got from selling illegal items for a lighter to burn himself. He felt nothing.
He punched himself, starved himself, bit himself. He brushed his teeth until he bled.
"I've never seen anyone lose this much gum mass from brushing. I specifically recommended soft bristle brushes for the prisoners because of this risk of self harm." The balding man said as he looked to the warden and then Kent who was staring into space.
"I recommend a short term psychiatric stay." The doctor said and Kent was brought back into reality.
The psychiatric hospital was surprisingly better than the main facility. There, it was clear that the patients were mentally ill. In the cells, you never knew who could stab you in the gut.
Kent thought it made it difficult to improve on his own mental health. He had always been surrounded by maniacs, sociopathic and homicidal people. His greatest struggle in life was remaining sane.
He spat out his toothpaste.
"Why are you here? You were transferred." Kent said as he splashed some water on his face. It was ice cold but it felt nice.
"Don't underestimate the power of bribery and corruption". He shared, supper giddy.
Kent felt guilty. Whatever human he still was, he hated that Thomas spent his time with him. He was retired due to a bone infection which was a biological weapon from Mexico. Ever since the war between neighbouring countries began, the number of biological weapons soldiers endured was beyond questionable. Everyone was quiet though. They acted like it didn't matter.
The president didn't give a shit. Why would he? It didn't affect the fat and rich. They didn't have to do anything; fighting, disease, curses, torture, magic, beasts. It was absurd that the world went on like normal.
They treated the end of the world like it was another world event while selling people to become war machines.
Kent was a victim and he was a failure.