nightshift //minizerk//

02

Josh's POV

I grip the cold torch in my hand, shining it along the floor as I walk the halls. It's particularly quiet tonight. I do prefer it to the screaming and shouting that often occurs, but it still puts me on edge.

I keep walking, past all the cells. I notice one of the patients sat on his bed, eyes closed and hands out stretched, making hand motions. I read some of the motions, and I realise it's sign language. I tap the metal of the bars lightly with my torch, and the boy snaps out of his daze. He looks confused for a moment, but then he smiles at me. ''I'm practising sign language so I can speak to the quiet boy,'' he explains quietly, before closing his eyes and continuing to make hand gestures that I couldn't possibly decipher. I smile slightly. Some of the people here aren't so bad.

I take a glance down at the watch on my wrist. It's almost four am. My shift ends at seven, so I risk a walk down the isolation block. The walls a relatively sound proof, or so I'm told, so I make no effort to silence my footfalls as I enter the block of cells. Unlike the normal cells, which are barred but still easy to see into, these are completely solid concrete. The only way out is through a strong metal door, and all of them are heavily padlocked. I don't like how eerie it is, so I head back down into the main block of cells. 

Looking down at my wrist again, my watch reads half past six. Some of the guards are beginning to leave. Not me though. I hear a crackling on my pager, followed by a voice. It's JJ. ''Hey, Josh. I'm off. See you tonight,'' and then it falls silent. I shake my head. I like to help out with the patients in the morning. I wander down the halls, glancing in at the slowly waking patients before arriving at the cafeteria. Some nurses are already collecting food that will go down to the patients in isolation. I offer to take some down, but the cook refuses, saying it's not my job. I sneak an apple out of the fruit bowl, though.

I flick open my pen knife and start carving things into the apple. I want to make at least someone feel a bit better in here. As I enter the isolation block, I notice some of the nurses giving me weird looks. A small lie about me leaving my pager down there gets them off my case. Once the coast is clear, I pull the apple out of my pocket, brush off the dust and walk up to one of the cells. I can't see anything, but I hear a slight groan, followed by a faint thud, and then a yelp of pain. Deciding that this is the one, I slide open the shutter at the base of the door and roll the apple in. ''Here,'' I say quietly, before closing the shutter and walking hastily back up the hall. Once I'm out, I leave my gear at the desk, grab my coat and leave. I don't belong here. Not until darkness falls.