Open Your Eyes, It's Just a Dream (Escape From Furnace Fanfic)

Chapter Twenty-One

A/N: Yay, update! XD *Sort of possible spoilers if you haven't finished the series* Idk if any of you go to comicons or cosplay but I'm going to be cosplaying Alex after he escapes Furnace and has his obsidian arm for Phoenix Comicon in May ^.^ I attached a photo of my sketches on the side if you want to see them! Also my Tumblr is Melody-Cross and I'll be posting cosplay updates on there if any of you want to see them! ~Raven

P.S. Thank you for 1k reads!!!!

Chapter Twenty-One:

At what point do you finally let go of your past and except the hell you now live in? How long do you spend your nights shaking, hands pressed over your ears to block out the non-stop, mind-numbing terror that is Furnace, and picture your old life? At what point do you finally snap and allow those happy memories to slowly disappear with every silently sob that racks your body until you're just sitting in the darkness; all energy drained from you. I've known people where the worst thing that had ever happened to them was they had their phone taken away or they weren't allowed to go to a party on Saturday night. Before Furnace I just shook my head at them and their oblivion. I don't anymore. Now I envy them. I envy them with every ounce of my body. I envy them because I know at what point you give up on your past and except hell.

My eyes landed on Donovan as I stepped into the courtyard. Alex, the new fish, was hovering by his side looking fairly traumatized. Poor thing probably didn't sleep a wink last night. I considered approaching them but instead turned away to find Christian. Inmates poured into the trough room, all eager to get the 'food' being served out. The people in the kitchen had long abandoned their duties and were sitting throughout the room, a larger than normal portion of slop positioned in front of them. There was the sharp clatter of trays and a yelp from the front of the trough room and silence fell on the room. The silence only lasted for a moment though as the Blacksuit positioned by the doors shifted slightly to look at what happened. I cocked my head towards the guard as I made eye contact with Kevin and he quickly dropped the terrified inmate's shirt and turned back to the slop. A few wary glances were tossed my way as I approached, one or two inmates stepping back to let me pass. I had come to the conclusion that the inmates didn't fear me exactly but they feared what would happen to them if they did mess with me. More than enough times Donovan or one of the Skulls had pinned someone to the wall and threatened them when they tried to get a little too friendly with me.

A loud laugh echoed through the room as a small blonde girl punched a guy in the face when he tried to put his hands on her. She muttered something to him and I watched as his face paled and she stalked off confidently. "That girl's nuts." Carter chuckled, walking up behind me. I jump and looked at him, placing my hand over my heart while laughing.

"Jesus, you scared the sh*t out of me!" He grinned widely and laughed before glancing over his shoulder as Gray and Christian approached us. We found a table and fell in to our normal conversation routine. We'd tell stories about before Furnace, even though we had all heard them a hundred times. At times we'd pick different people out of the crowds and give them funny backstories. Stories on how they were actually undercover agents or actresses or how the Blacksuit by the door was actually a dragon. It made being in this hell hole a bit better. It's strange the things you can get used to. A small skirmish, the disgusting food, the exhausting jobs, and the terrifying guards didn't seem as bad after a while. Although you're used to it you never fully feel safe. Even when you're sitting in your cell talking with other inmates there is still the threat that a skirmish is going to get too intense or that that night a red light is going to rip you from your sleep. Even if we daydream about it, there is no escaping Furnace; physically or mentally.

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The screens above the elevators were blinding in comparison to the dim prison. Inmates piled around them, each searching for their name as the jobs scrolled by. I sighed in relief as laundry duty appeared next to my name. Even though I wouldn't get the smell of bleach off my hands for at least three days and your eyes always burned after one hour of working in the laundry room it was still better than chipping or the stink. Christian groaned next to me, dropping his arms to his sides.