Chapter Two

Hit The Showers

By Alius111

"Well, that probably wasn't the smartest thing you've ever done," Presley said, watching me from my bed.

At the sound of his voice I opened my eyes. Steadily the room came into focus. The metal tray lay discarded on the other side of the cell. Broken glass and day old stew was scattered around it. Groaning, I untangled the blanket from around my neck and began rubbing my sore throat. It's safe to say that I lost my head last night. That decision was rash and based on fear. I was lucky to come out of that situation with just a throbbing neck. I could have given myself brain damage. What was I thinking?

"I know the stew was bad but you didn't have to go try killing yourself."

I shot Presley an annoyed look. "What do you want?" I asked coldly. My voice was raspy due to my failed suicide attempt.

"Come on," He said, jumping from the bed. "Is that anyway to talk to your brother?"

"Your not my brother," I snapped. "My brother is dead."

"That's funny. I don't look dead to me."

Ignoring him, I got up and began picking up the pieces of the broken bowl. "Your not real. Your just a figment of my imagination."

Presley scoffed. "Are you saying I'm not the real Presley?"

"That's right."

"Well I am."

Now it was my turn to scoff. "Really? Then what is your favorite food?"

Presley thought it over for a second. "I don't know," He finally admitted.

"Of course you don't know!" In my frustration I threw a piece of jagged glass at Presley. It flew through the hole in his stomach and landed harmlessly on the ground. "You don't know because I don't know!" I was obviously wasting my time. Why was I even trying to reason with him? He's not real. I have a better chance of walking through the cell door than I do of convincing him that he's just a hallucination dreamed up by my head. I don't even know why I was trying. When he didn't respond I looked up to see that he had vanished from my cell...

I felt so miserable. It's sort of pathetic but I actually did kind of enjoy his company. When he was here I had someone to talk to. Maybe that's my head had invented him. To give me a companion in my loneliness. But...he wasn't real. I had no real friends anymore...not in here at least. The thing I was talking to wasn't the real Presley. The real Presley was rotting underground; probably just bones by now. This fake delusion was only what I imagined Presley would be like: Sarcastic and annoying.

Sitting on the floor, I leaned against the wall. Look what's become of me, I thought. I used to be such a normal easy going person, and now I'm talking to people who aren't really there. I leaned forward and picked up the metal tray. My tired reflection stared up at me from it's reflective surface. I barely recognized myself. My face was taut and skinny. You could hardly tell due to the fur on my face, but I could practically feel my skin stretched over my bones. My eyes seemed dead and lifeless, like something had died deep down inside them. I didn't have to look into a mirror to know that I was skinny. My ribs stuck out like sore thumbs. If it was possible I felt even weaker than I had before. My new ragged appearance is proof of what I have been through. This tight emotionless mask is evidence of the pain and suffering I have endured in this place.

I have nothing. I have no one. It kills me to be away from my family. I haven't seen or heard from them since I was hauled away to prison. I thought Jumba or at least my father would write to me. Then again, why would they? Everyone thought I was a monster. Why would anyone want to talk to me? If anything they were probably glad that I was out of their way. I wonder if my father ever thought about me. Did he ever regret how we never spent time together when he had the chance? Or perhaps was he happy that such an embarrassment was behind bars where it belonged? I suppose it doesn't matter now. I was never going to see him or anyone else again.

I tried to lighten my mood by thinking about home and all the good times I had with my family. It seemed to have the exact opposite affect. Instead of cheering me up it just made me more depressed. Usually taking a stroll down memory lane was enough to bring me from my despair, but now the only purpose it served was to remind me of everything I had lost. I didn't have any tears to shed. The time spent in prison has hardened me and turned my heart to ice. I don't think I'll ever cry again...Maybe years from now when I'm just about to expire. I might shed a few tears for my tragic fate. But there was no use crying over something you couldn't change. I was going to die in this room. I accepted that a long time ago-

The sound of sliding glass drew my attention to the cell door. A guard stood on a hovering platform holding a bowl filled with a grey paste. Without saying anything he slid the bowl into my cell and with the push of a button the door closed. I picked up the bowl just as the guard and his hovering platform flew from sight. Using my finger I pocked at the thick mud like substance in the bowl. They were serving breakfast so it must be morning hours. Since the prison was built on an asteroid there was no day or night. So the days were worked out by a clockwork system that corresponded with the meals. When breakfast came that meant the "day" had started. Hours later when lunch arrived that meant it was middle day. Then when dinner was served that meant the day was over and lights out was approaching. When the lights were off it was the prison's artificial night. Everything shut down and the prisoner went to sleep. Once the lights were turned back on and the first meal arrived; it was a start to a new day. This endless cycle repeats itself over and over again. You could stay here for two days and learn the routine by heart. It was boring and repetitive-but hey, that's my life now.

Using my finger I scooped some of the foul smelling paste into my mouth and cringed as it slid down my throat. The gruel sort of tasted like a combination of cigarette ashes and rotten eggs. It was disgusting but you get used to it after a while. Sighing, I threw the empty bowl on the floor after forcing myself to choke down every last bite of the revolting paste. I feel like I've eaten a rock, I thought while holding my cramped stomach. How I've lived on this stuff for a year I'll never know.

Belching loudly, I laid down on the cold floor, massaging my stomach. "Another day in paradise," I said miserably.

XXXX

I lay on my bed staring absentmindedly at the ceiling. Any moment now the guard will be here to escort me to the showers. It's a good thing to. I was starting to smell. Once a month I'm allowed to take a shower for a maximum time of thirty minutes. In the past I had to take it with my fellow inmates but one of my privileges is I get to take showers by myself. I asked for this privilege not because I'm shy or embarrassed, but because it's too dangerous. Spending time in a large room with a group of dangerous criminals who have been locked up for God knows how long isn't exactly the smartest thing. This was proven a year ago around the time I first arrived here. A small riot broke out in the showers and my right arm was broken in the process. It healed nicely but now I have a slight case of arthritis. Sometimes it acts up when I first wake up or when I turn it too far to the right. The arthritis is a mild inconvenience that hasn't cost me any real trouble yet. But I could life without it.

A sore arm isn't the only thing I have to worry about. I still have to be wary about the one thing everyone fears when they come to prison. I'm talking of course about rape. These sort of situations are very common. Mostly taking place in the showers or when two prisoners are kept in the same cell. Fortunately due to my quick thinking and my exceptionally sharp claws, I haven't been forced into that kind of situation. God knows they've tried. I'm reminded of this specific incident that took place in the showers about two months after I arrived at prison.

One of my inmates thought he would try and "Make me his bitch" as he put it. But when he attacked me, in a effort to defend myself: I slashed him across the neck with my claws. Originally I hadn't intended to kill him, but I wasn't about to allow myself to be raped. Of course I was put on trial but I got off on self defense. It was a good thing to. If I was convicted of the murder it would have been straight to the executioner's block. I'm not exactly sure how they execute prisoners but it can't be pleasant.

Bored out of my skull, I reached under my pillow and pulled out a large bone. I ran my finger along its rough surface, coming to a stop at the end which had been sharpened to a point. I had salvaged it from one of my "special meals" a few weeks back. I'm not sure why but it seemed like a good idea at the time. Over the weeks I've scraped the edge of the bone along my bed frame, refining the end to a sharp point. I kept it as a way to pass the time but also in case I had to defend myself. Every prisoner has their own makeshift weapon and this sharpened piece of bone is mine.

After admiring my handy work, I stowed my crude self-made weapon back in its hiding place under my pillow, and not a moment too soon. Just as I had managed to hide the bone back under my pillow the guard entered my cell.

"You ready?" He asked, holding out a pair off shackles.

Giving the guard my coldest stare, I nodded and jumped off my bed. Wordlessly, I raised my hands so he could restrain them, but at the last second he pulled the shackles away.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He said looking me up and down. I gave him a confused look. "Your naked," He added, pointing out my lack of prison uniform.

"I don't wear it," I told him.

"Well, Trog, if your leaving your cell then you have to wear your uniform."

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't think so."

"Look," He said obviously frustrated. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way." He raised his plasma cannon and aimed it at my head. Defeated, I retrieved my uniform from under my bed and pulled on the black and grey striped shirt and pants. Muttering profanity's under my breath, I allowed the guard to hand cuff me.

As the platform began its decent to the lower levels, I began furiously scratching my sides. I hate wearing the prison uniform. It makes my fur itch. I don't see the point in wearing it. I'm just going to be taking it off again when I get into the shower. Still, it never occurred to me that they considered me naked when I'm not wearing my uniform. But the more I thought about it the more it made sense. I hardly ever wore clothes when I was growing up on Earth. However these people- no matter what species- were clothed all the time. Oh well, at least black and grey are my colors(literally).

The guard led me down a brightly lit hallway. The floors were so clean and polished I could see my reflection in them. I've made this journey to showers from my cell many times before. As always the guard stands behind me, making sure I keep walking at a steady pace. If I slow or stray in any way: I get a small shock from his stun gun. Before I was allowed to take showers on my own I was usually accompanied by at least twenty other prisoners. During this long walk, if a prisoner should walk away from the line even by the width of a hair. Then they are shot without a second thought. I know I would get the same treatment. That's why I try to walk in a straight line at all times.

When the guard used his card key in a small terminal attached to the wall: the door at the end of the hallway opened to revealed a dark passageway that seemed to stretch for miles. The door automatically closed behind us as we passed through the threshold. With a nervous cough, the guard pushed me forward. I could tell my heavily armed companion was just as disturbed as I was. No one liked going down this hallway, but it was the fastest way to get to the showers.

The walls and floor seemed to be made out of a material similar to concrete. The lights constantly flickered, temporarily plunging the passage into darkness. The only sound that could be heard was the steady dripping of water from the long rusty pipes that ran along the wall. We were in an older part of the prison. When the budget was low, instead of building a new prison they just built one on top of the old ones. From outside, Prison Asteroid K-37 looks like a solid dome, but on the inside it's an endless labyrinth of hallways and levels. Mostly the staff keeps to the higher levels of the prison. If one doesn't know their way around the endless corridors of the old prison. There's a good chance you could get lost. But fortunately I had taken this route many times before, and it was a direct route to the showers.

Finally we came to a stop in front of a narrow door at the end of the hallway. The guard turned to me and told me to strip. After I took of my uniform and handed it to the guard, he used his key card to open the door and I stepped inside the showers.

I was in a brightly lit room that could easily hold a large group of people. The white tiled walls and floor gleamed in the light, and reflected off the many shower heads that lined the walls. The room was sanitary enough but it had the feel of a place that's been re-tiled and painted to make it look fresh. Feeling uneasy, I walked under a shower head and turned the knob. I shivered as ice cold water poured from the nozzle and ran down my body. Teeth chattering, I grabbed a bar of soap from a shelf and began scrubbing my chest. Soon I was all lathery and covered in bubbles.

Simon-

My ears perked up. Nervously I looked for who had spoken. But there was no one. I was completely alone in the showers. "H-hello," I said. "Is someone there?" The sound of running water was the only thing to be heard. Gulping, I began rinsing the bubbles from my fur. My teeth were chattering harder than ever, but it had nothing to do with the icy water.

Simon-

My head jerked around, eyes frantically trying to locate the source of the voice. But there was no one. Suddenly a loud screeching made me jump. It was a horrible piercing noise like the sound of metal scraping against metal. Terrified, I backed away from the walls as every shower head came to life, spewing boiling hot water onto the floor. I was gripping the bar of soap so tight that it was turning to mush in my hands. The floor at my feet became scarlet as blood began pouring in torrents from the shower heads. Yelling, I dropped the soap and ran for the door, nearly slipping on the wet floor.

"G-Guard, let me out." I said frantically.

"What?" He said from the other side of the door.

"I-I'm done. L-let me out."

"Ah come on kid, I just lit up a smoke. You still got twenty five minutes left. Enjoy your shower, I'll even turn on the hot water if you want."

Heart racing in my chest, I turned to see the walls closing in around me. "LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" I slammed my fists on the door. I wanted out! I needed to get out of here before the walls crushed me! With each second they drew closer and closer. The space separating us grew smaller. Hundreds of voices were all whispering at once, drowning out my thoughts. The walls pressed in against me, squeezing and crushing me to death. Just as I couldn't take it no longer, I fell backwards and received a violent electric shock. For a moment I twitched and convulsed from the force of the shock. Then unable to bear it any longer, I fell unconscious.

XXXX

I awoke in my bed hours later, feeling light head and exhausted. It took me a minute to register that I was in my cell. For a moment I thought the walls were closing in on me again, but I calmed down when they remained firmly in place. I'm not sure what happened. One minute I was taking a shower and the next thing I know I'm lying in bed with a terrible burn on my back side. I inspected the wound and because of all the time I spent studying medical journals in my youth; I immediately knew it was an electrical burn- that's when it hit me. The guard hit me with his stun gun. But why would he do that? Then I remembered. I was hallucinating again. The guard must of heard me scream and thought I was hostile, so he shocked me.

Moaning, I grabbed the sides of my head. "This has got to stop!" I yelled to no one in particular.

"Your telling me." I looked up and growled when I saw Presley smiling at me. "So, hows life in the slammer?" He asked.

"Go away!" I yelled, turning away from him.

Sighing, he reached out and placed his hand on my shoulder-it was funny...I could swear I felt the warmth coming from his hand-No! It was all in my head...He's not real!

"Look," Presley muttered sadly. "I know I was a jerk to you before...but I was hoping we could put all of that behind us." He smiled and held out his hand for mine in a brotherly fashion.

I heaved a sigh of frustration but eventually I grabbed his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. I remember...the last time I held his hand was all those years ago when he died right in front of me. I looked from Presley's smiling face to the large hole in his stomach. Looking at the gapping wound that had taken my brother's life made me feel sick. I remembered how I scrubbed his blood from my fur in the showers after I left my and father with his corpse. Why do I feel so guilty about this? I thought to myself. I didn't even like Presley.

"Your cracking up bro."

A pained expression crossed over my face. It took the hallucination of my dead brother to tell me what I already know. But it was still like a cold slap in the face.

"What am I supposed to do?" I asked.

"I don't know. Your the genius. You think of something." And with that he vanished from my cell,leaving me alone once again. But for once I was truly sorry to see him go...

Suddenly my cell door opened and the warden stepped in accompanied by four heavily armed soldiers. "The Grand Council Women Has arranged a meeting with you," The warden announced. Looking stern he frowned at me. "She demands your presence immediately."

Before I could object or even take a breath. I was hauled off my bed and dragged onto the platform. My hands were shackled and the next thing I know, I'm descending down to the lower levels to see the Grand Council Women.

Alius111: I hope this is turning out god so far, but i'll never know unless I get feedback! Please Review.