Counting Days | TDBK

Day 3

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☆Day 3☆

Day 3 was more or less the same, except for the fact that Shoto just stopped functioning altogether.
All of his time went towards some 'plan'  he was working on in our bedroom. I never saw what was actually in there, he always cleared it before we went to sleep. I stopped sleeping in that room after Day 3. 

I knew that this plan wasn't anything good. I didn't know what to do, who to turn to.
They wouldn't believe me, would they?

Usually I'd go to him, I'd tell him if I was having troubles, if something was wrong... We worked through it together, always.
But my Shoto wasn't there anymore. He was gone.

I'd try giving him food or at least a glass of water, he always declined. Harshly, even for me.

"Hey Shoto? You doin' ok in there..? Anyways, I brought you some water and sandwiches.."

"I'm busy. Not now." He growled at me behind the door.

"But you haven't eaten all day, damn it!" I cried out, voicing my frustration with this whole mess. All he did was shuffle around and move pages without another word from him. I remember sighing then leaving back to the kitchen.

I had to remind myself to make dinner for one that night.

☆

I close the notebook once again and lean back against the concrete wall. I glare out to all the other prisoners on the other side of the yard, talking, scheming and picking fights.

I get put in the solitary yard instead of the main one, since I've committed a much worse act compared to the rest of these fucking idiots.
My headache starts to feel like my head is pounding, like it'll explode. I wish it did, honestly. Maybe I would be able to beat the shit out of Shoto in hell. Kill him again, maybe.

It's your fault I'm wasting away in here.

"Who's that guy? The one in solitary." I hear someone whisper. I look around the other side of the yard.

"Don't know 'em personally. Heard people calling him Killer Katsuki." Another voice perked up, a rough and bored sounding one. 

"Holy shit, he killed someone? I thought this place was only for like.. Minor crimes, dude."

"That's right," the gruff one reassured. "But, turns out his case was a little.. eh, weird. He was against a damn good lawyer at that, so of course he lost and was put here."

The voices began to wander off, probably away from solitary yard. 

"Fuck you." I whispered. 

Unfortunately, my guard thought I was talking to him, so fuck.

"What'cha say, damn it?" He yelled into my ear. I moved back a little bit because jesus christ, shut the fuck up man.

"I said fuck you." I announced proudly to him.

*THUMP*

"FUCK-"

*THUMP*

"BASTARD-"

*THUMP*

. . . . . .

I touch my nose and find blood on my fingers. My face hurts.

Everything hurts.