𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐨́𝐧 𝐈𝐯𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑𝟐.

Armani's Pov
"There's no need to touch me that thoroughly. What am I supposed to do with a nail file anyway? Cut through walls?" I mumbled, glaring at the wall in front of me as I stood there, clearly uncomfortable being patted down by the guards. Someone had been sneaking around with a metal nail file, using it roughly enough to cause harm just before outside time. I'd much rather sit alone in the cafeteria, eating the tasteless slop, than endure being felt up by a male officer, or anyone else for that matter.

"You're in here for a reason, so I wouldn't put it past you," the officer retorted smartly, making me scoff as he moved on to the next person, who happened to be my roommate. He patted him down as well. Eventually, I learned that his name was Carlos, but not by choice; he simply didn't know when to stop talking and sharing unwanted information about himself.

Carlos snickered at the officer's joke, prompting me to glare daggers into the sides of his head until he finished getting patted down. He looked back at me with a playful expression. I mentally groaned and waited for the next set of instructions.

"Alright, listen up!" the security officer yelled, his voice echoing through the sterile halls of the asylum as he placed his hands on his hip, looking defeated. "We've conducted thorough searches, and surely I wont tolerate anyone concealing anything. This is a place for healing, not for aggravating your situation. Does anyone have the courage to come clean before the consequences worsen?"

I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the wall, the room falling into an uneasy hush. Glancing over at Carlo's, I could tell he was trying to stifle a laugh, and I arched an eyebrow in suspicion. But before I could ask anything, the police officer gave up trying to get anyone to confess and finally sent us off to lunch. The delay was partly due to the whole nail filer incident, making me roll my eyes once again as I walked towards the cafeteria.

Entering the cafeteria alone, as I usually did and preferred, I quietly proceeded to the thankfully short queue and waited patiently until it was time to collect a tray. At last, it was my turn, and I glanced down at the pre-served tray only to notice the absence of fruit on my plate.

It was the only thing I liked.

I exhaled in exasperation, "I don't have any fruit," I remarked, my gaze piercing into the lunch lady's eyes, who looked up at me as though I had just asked her to commit a heinous crime.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't have a fucking fruit!" I said, my voice rising with frustration. Her eyes widened slightly as she quickly placed a green apple onto the corner of my tray. Sighing for what felt like the fifth time today, I picked up my tray and made my way to one of the tables at the back of the cafeteria. The noise of the bustling room faded as I found a secluded my usual spot closer to the back. Placing my plate down, I sat and immediately took a bite of the sweet, crisp apple.

I sat in complete silence, taking in every detail of my surroundings. Suddenly, a deafening crash shattered the tranquility, and my gaze shot down to the table just in time to witness another tray being placed in front of me. As I gasped for breath, trying to swallow my apple, I scrambled for a napkin to wipe away the threatening juice from my face. When I looked up, there was Carlo, settling down right in front of me.