SAIL

•chapter 1•

Silence. That's all I hear sitting alone in my comfy, white padded room. I'm the only one who sits in here day and night. It's the only place I've been for six years. It wasn't my fault in what I did. At least that's what he keeps saying.

The voice in my head has always supported me and is the only thing that speaks to me when I feel lonely. His name is Robbie. Well, that's what I call him. At first he wasn't so fond of it, but now he doesn't really care. He's also the only friend and was always the only friend I have. This one lady, who I guess they call my "caretaker," things that I'm on good terms with her, but we're not. She's the first one I'm gonna kill when I get out of here. Her death from my hands will be her destiny. It will be her fate. And I'll make sure of that. She thinks that I'm the cutest thing ever and that I don't deserve to be in here, which I do agree with that last part, but she's also the one who feeds me, bathes me, reads me shitty books, tells me about her bratty kids, and also gives me my shots. I don't see why she thinks I give two shits about her life and those shots are what take away my power and makes me weak. It's pretty obvious that no one likes to be weak, and I definitely don't either.

A loud beep echoes in the room along with a click from the door. I know who it is. It's that lady. The stupid, fucking caretaker with the bitchy little shits. She walks in through the padded door with her little tray containing food. She comes over to where I'm sitting in the corner. "How are you today, love?" she smiles at me. I don't answer. She doesn't need an answer because it really doesn't matter to her. I know it doesn't.

When she sits in front of me, I look at what's to eat today. It looks like turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy. Okay. One: I hate potatoes. And two: the turkey isn't dark, so that's definitely shit, too.

I sigh, "Can't you get me something better to eat?" "I'm sorry love, but that's what they're serving today." "Tch. You're not sorry. You sick people like watching me rot in this shit cell. When's the next time this place will get cleaned? It's starting to smell like piss." It's true. It reeks of my piss and the soft floors are starting to get yellow stains. A few weeks ago, I lost my privilege of using the bathroom after trying to escape, and it's not the first privilege taken away.

At first, I was able to eat in the canteen, but after spooning someone's eye out with a spoon, I was put to eat by myself. I also used to be able to hang out in the recreation room, but after shoving puzzle pieces down another person's throat, I was sent to be in here. My first month of being in this room, I was able to use my hands. I requested to have markers, preferably sharpies. I used them to write on not just the walls and floor, but also myself. I'd write nasty things about the staff here and occasionally get high off the fumes these markers gave off. I was having a bast until a whore tried to grab my junk in the showers. After that, I was put into a straight jacket. All those reasons why I got my privileges taken wasn't my fault, though. It was all their faults, and they paid and will pay if they haven't already.

"Love, are you okay?" the caretaker snaps her fingers in front of my face. I blink. Did I just space out again? It doesn't matter, so I shrug it off in my mind. "Don't call me 'love'," I growl. She giggles in her annoying way, "Ah. Cute as ever I see." I glare at her and shoot daggers into her eye sockets in my head. I really hate her with a passion. I really do.

"Eat up~," she places a spoonful of potatoes to my mouth. I allow her to feed it to me, but I start to gag. This is awful shit. I bet the guys on the other side of the camera are laughing their asses off like the scums they are. "Can I just not eat? This is awful," I try not to puke. "How about the turkey? Try it, love," she puts some turkey up to my mouth. I chew on it for a few minutes, then I spit it out. The brown, chewed up meat tumbles down my chest and onto my thigh. She takes the napkin and wipes it off. "It need a drink," my mouth feeling dry as hell. She unwraps a straw from the tray and places it into a styrofoam cup of water. She holds it up and I drink every drop I could get. "Now are you sure you don't want to eat anymore?" she asks. "I'm pretty fucking sure I don't," I slide down onto my back. "Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes for your bath." And with that, she leaves.

After about five minutes, she returns with a wheel chair. Why? Because they don't want me to run away and they think I'm not strong enough to stand up with no hands or arms. She helps me up and I sit in the chair. You know, I don't really complain about it. It's nice because I don't have to walk and the other patients here watch me like hawks. It's pretty funny. Every time they see me, either they run or they look like they're gonna shit themselves. I also mentally flip them off because I'm a lot better than them.

On our way to the showers, miss caretaker forgot to get me a clean set of clothes, so she parks my ride outside of her little closet, across from a babe's room. The girl peeks out of her window. She must be new because I have never seen her here before. Her hair is dyed with many colors from the rainbow and it also looks like it's shaved on one side. Her eyes are blue like the ocean and tattoos of a star and moon are inked on one cheek. She looks right at me and I smirk back. She then starts to lick the glass. Okay, she's into kinky shit. Not bad. The caretaker comes back and sees us. "Flirting are ya?" "Na. I just think she's sexually attracted to the glass."

•••

Water falls down my back and trickles across my face. It feels good to get out of that stuffy room that smells like old people. I stand under the shower with my writs and ankles in cuffs. There is totally no way for me to try and run this time. With one step, I would instantly end up smashing my face on the wall with no way in stopping it.

While I stand there, the caretaker turns off the water and lathers my hair up with fruit scented shampoo. "So... What's your name?" I ask. She laughs a little, "Did you forget?" "Yeah." Actually, I was too busy trying to bash my head in when she was introducing herself. "It's Miss Tinah," she puts some soap onto a washcloth. I nod, "Oh yeah. Now I remember. Silly me." She starts to wash my arms, then my hairy underarms, chest, back, private parts, and down to my toes. "I hate you," I randomly say as she rinses me off. "Oh really, love? How come?" "You touched me in an inappropriate way." "No I didn't. I simply washed you up." "You grabbed my privates," now I just wanna start a fight. "I didn't grab them. I washed them." I snicker, "Yeah. Whatever."

Once I was dried and clothed, we head back, but to another room that looked the same, minus the pee stains. "Thank goodness, I have a clean space to continue rotting," I plop onto my butt. "I see you're happy. You should thank me since I have requested it for you." "Na. I'd rather not, Miss T." "Why not?" "Because I hate you," I deviously smile. She laughs, "Yeah right."

Putting her hand in her pocket, she pulls out a needle and a bottle of serum. That's the stuff that suppresses my abilities. "W-wait, could I not have that today? I feel like I deserve a reward for being good." I heard that stuff could kill a regular human, giving them a fast, but painful death. She thinks about it, "Well... I guess you do deserve something. Promise me you won't do anything, okay? This is just between me and you." "Thank you! I'd hug you right now if I could," I smile innocently. But behind every innocent smile is something deadly.

In a few minutes, the serum from yesterday will bypass my system, giving me the ability to use my power. After those few minutes, I will escape. The voice in my head starts to laugh manically, "Stupid girl! She doesn't know what will hit her. I can't believe she fell for it!" As soon as the door shuts behind her, I join into the laughing fest. She is stupid. Going against the rules just because I seem innocent in her eyes. She has seen what I have done, yet it's like it slips past her. In a few minutes, she will be dead.