Snippet #2349626

Location: D block
Time: 19:44
Date: June 19

He'd spent seven days in that hospital bed. Seven days spent lying there and staring at either the too-white cork-board ceiling or the stream of patients (inmates?) that arrived half dead and left only a quarter dead. Seven days of blinding agony because not only was he in the beginning stages of withdrawal, but also without the aid of even a couple Tylenol. Nothing. He'd had to lay there and stare up at the ceiling as auras swam across his pain-blurred vision. He was certain he'd been a screamer.

But the first time he'd stood up on his own two feet again, it was freedom at last. Granted, that freedom was cut short when he fell forward and smacked his shins and palms (but thankfully not his head) on the cold tile, but it was freedom nonetheless. To realize he was still in prison was horrifically depressing. He had never made the connection, having been too distracted by his torturous aches and injuries.

Then he'd walked numbly back to his cell and just sat there. Then he had been forced into interacting with the other inmates. Now that release was exactly ten days ago, he was mostly over it and mostly back to his old ways, thanks to the guards' insitence that he integrate himself.

Suddenly, a guard shook his shoulder, not at all careful as to how such a movement would jostle his still sore ribs, and he took the cue. Brent stood up and made his way down the hallways. Ten days, and already he was conditioned.

Location: Exercise Area
Time: 19:48
Date: June 19

Most of the time he stayed away from the mess hall because he had better things on his mind than food, but the exercise time was a non-negotiable obligation. Probably so they'll-- we'll-- put up a good sport, he thought with a dark edge of mirth.

And then: "Heya, Sparks!"

Despite himself, he found his eyes darting over to the basketball court. With a grunt he walked pointedly in the other direction.

No can do, seeing a guard stood in his way. He frowned and wondered if he'd get hit in the mouth for daring to speak with one of them. After weighing the pros and cons briefly, he decided against it, for now, because he really hated that god-awful infirmary. Instead Brent ambled over to the inmate who'd called out to him. Basketball, he could do that right, they wanted to know.

He replied yes. The ball came his way, he caught it, and they began to play.