PRISONERS

Chapter 7

• Chapter 7 •

Cane was in a great mood as always, sitting back in his comfy chair with a mug of warm coffee in his hands, his round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. Dressed in a white shirt with a black sweater on top and gray pants, his long unruly hair pushed back.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked me nicely, not bothering to touch the notebook and pen sitting on his desk.

He has stopped taking notes about my thoughts and feelings for over a year now, since my replies have been the same and boring. I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide my confusion and interest in Harry after he had admitted he was Kayn’s enemy.

“I'm good, how are you?” I asked kindly, looking up at him.

He offered me a small, cute smile. “I'm great, thanks for asking.” he said before taking a sip from his coffee, “So, how did it go today at breakfast? Any new friends?”

“No, I talked to a woman though and she didn't seem to want to be my friend.”

He cocked a brow, “What did she say?”

“She asked if I give head to the officers so I—,“

“Okay, okay,” he cut me off, breathing a short laugh at my choice of words.  “Don't blame them, they have no idea how it is in isolation, they're just curious if you're even tortured in there because you seem perfectly fine.” he clarified and I frowned.

“Why? Is that what really happens in isolation? Officers torture prisoners?” I asked.

“Not really, prisoners seem to grow very aggressive in isolation because they actually get mad. But you only calmed down a few months after you got in that cell by yourself so that's why officers don't ‘torture’ you.” he explained easily, moving his right hand, his left hand holding his mug. “Isolation is a torture already, I believe.”

“No, it's not.” I argued softly, shaking my head gently. He seemed to grow interested in hearing my thoughts as he cocked his head slightly to the side. “People are afraid of loneliness because they're not pleased with themselves. They need someone's company to fulfill the emptiness they feel. I don't, because I feel great by myself.”

Both brows shot skywards at my words, a small, proud smile forming on his lips. “You said it correctly.” he murmured, nodding his head slowly at me.

“But I'm bored when I'm all alone all the time.” I admitted, chuckling softly. He laughed gently and took another sip from his coffee.

“If you keep behaving, Logan will actually let you join the rest of the prisoners at the back yard.” he told me, my eyes widening in surprise.

Normal prisoners have free time at the back yard for a few hours a day. I have been outside only 4 times the past four years, one time each year, and that was only for 10 minutes. It's really unfair, but it's how the fucking rules must be here for prisoners on death row.

Funny thing is, I'm the only prisoner with death penalty, which means there is no one else before me, so I could be killed tomorrow. Logan has dealt I stay in prison for 10 years before I am executed. I don't know why he did that, I think I would much rather die as fast as possible than waste my time in that cell for all these years.