Title- Happiness in the form of pills

Author- Aaia (original) Akuroku fan on fire (current)

Rating: T (for now...)

Notes: hello, everybody. Bet you weren't expecting an update for this story, where you? Well, it's not Aaia, but it's me, Ember or "Akuroku fan on fire" on here. Aaia has given me permission to continue the story. But do not fret! The updates will be continuing on her account so there is no need to go searching elsewhere for the story again. Blah, ranting... anyways lets get started.

My eyes locked onto the other figure pacing the cell like a caged animal. Currently, his back was turned from me but I recognized him immediately. Messy blond hair styled in frizzy spikes. Yep, that was definitely Hayner. But how did they find him? Was he caught before or after me? As questions continued to spin in my head, I heard a little voice in my head that was just screaming constantly. The one that I've always listened to. "Who cares? He disappeared without a trace! You shouldn't care about him anymore." Well, the voice was right. Hayner did pull a Houdini on me while my back was turned. But I guess that it didn't matter anymore. Since we are both here now and were both caged together, we can "catch up" with one another.

"Hayner, what are you doing here? You got caught too?" I raised my eyebrow at him when he didn't answer me. Was he ignoring me? I know I was loud enough. When my accomplice turned around to continue pacing, he seemed startled to see me standing in front of him. I guess it's not ever day someone randomly pops up in your cell. Especially someone you know.

"Whoa! Rox? Where did you come from? Don't tell me that I've gone insane already." He exclaimed loudly. Then glancing back and forth suspiciously, his voice lowered to a whisper. "Where have you been? Man, I though you were dead. The guards said something about us being in the paper but they never let me see it for myself." Hayners eyebrows furrowed in concern over his fellow arson. His face was thinner then before, but that's to be expected, I guess. They probably don't feed the criminals that much here. Just enough to keep us alive but not enough to have us full either. They think that they can torture use that way. Idiots. Hayner and I have survived on hardly anything before when we were on the run. Just a bag of chips here and a hot dog there, along with whatever we could steal. We didn't need much food to keep us going. It seemed as if, we alone, were running on adrenaline. But enough about the past, back to now.

I gave him my serial killer grin and stated bluntly "You are insane. No, scratch that. Were both insane." Then I burst into shallow laughter as if what I said was funny. Hayner cracked a grin and stared amused at my antics before going off to the side of the room and sat on the bottom bunk of the metal bunk bed. Pausing in my hysterical laughter for a second, I took the time to scan my surroundings quickly. After all, a good criminal always knows about the available resources, just in case of any "accidents" that they might want to cause.

The room was small, that was for sure. I wondered how I didn't notice before. There was a bunk bed, the one Hayner currently occupied, pushed up against the wall across from the door. Beside the headboard was a small, round table with small crumpled strips of paper sitting on the smooth, clean surface. It must have been a brand new table, I mused to myself. Usually there would be graffiti and carving all over the top indicating that someone had found something nice and sharp to play with. It confused me that a patient would work so hard to get a decent weapon, only to use it for carving their name and phone number across the surface. What a waste of a perfectly good shank. You think some people would learn after being in the crazy house for years, that a sharp object is very hard to come by. Even if you don't use it, others can be bribed with it.

But wait, what was I doing again? Damn it, I hate how my mind goes off like that. I get great ideas and then "FLASH" there gone, just like a bolt of lightning. But I guess that's why I can think of many things at once. Most people think that makes me smart, but actually I'm just resourceful. I don't know everything. Though I do have skills that I have picked up here and there. Like for instance, I could pick a lock. I learned how to do this from watching numerous you tube videos. But the problem was that I could only pick certain locks and I need a paperclip and a sewing needle. Anything else wouldn't be small and strong enough to open to door.

But now that I mention it, I could probably use this "skill" of mine to get us out of here. But I would need a plan and one or two accomplices. Glancing over at Hayner, I ran a couple of ideas in my head trying to find one that would fit, but nothing came to me. Hmmm, I'm going to have to take my time planning this before I attempt such feat. But once Hayner and I get out, I can guarantee were both going to hunt after our soon-to-be dead ex-best friends and finish the job. Watch out Olette, Pence. Were coming…