CRACKED

DAY FIVE

Seems they’ve proved me wrong. There’s oh so much fun in predictability. Not.

Every day I wake up at first bell, but being in Maximum, I don’t leave my cell. The soundproof plexi-glass makes it a little hard to gallivant, an addition since my hide-and-seek game. Lexington has no sense of fun.

The soundproofing is probably to keep Daniel from me. They’ve apparently bound him under a gag rule. Everyday he comes to get me for forty-five minutes of heavily guarded romping outside. I call it romping when really all I do is sprint gate to gate in order to remind myself that I’m as agile as a cat and will remain so for the duration of my stay here, however long that may be.

Seeing him jolts me back to those few years of sanity I had with him. Too bad I’m over the whole sanity thing.

Memories serve no use to me, so why dwell on mind states passed? He seems to look at me everyday, searching for the Meg he used to know. He quickly snaps back to his “officer face” and returns to his monotony.

He doesn’t seem to get that I buried that Meg in the backyard along with all that was left of her mind.