(I DO NOT own The Walking Dead, Code Lyoko, or any names/brands that might appear in the story. Any references to any person living or dead is merely a coincidence, and should NOT be taken as intentional. All of that being said, I hope you enjoy the story! :D)

It was the next morning... Dominic didn't get any sleep the night before. He had no idea what he was gonna do, aside from waiting to die... Even if he could get out of the cell, he knew all of the noises and gunshots had to drawn in more walkers from several miles around. He had no idea what to do...

It's already been five days... He still had enough food to last for another week, if he had to guess. His main problem was something to drink. He barely had any of the flat Coca-Cola left, and he knew he'd have to drink out of the toilet... as much as he didn't want to, though. But in any event he was sure he would eventually starve to death in the cell. He didn't know how to lockpick and he didn't know how to take off the bars...

There was still a lot of walkers outside. The dead National Guard soldiers turned too, at least the majority of them. The weapons they dropped could sure as hell be useful, but he still couldn't get out of his cell to get them...

Carefully, and with his spork, Dominic started to carefully cut his stale beef and dried mashed potatoes into smaller chunks. He took a high school class on health before he got expelled for saying some 'questionable' things to the principle about her mother and a horse, and then he pushed her into a trophy case. He remembered in his class he learned the number of calories a person needs every day is somewhere around 3,500 or so, and he hoped that by eating one or two chunks a day that he could make them up, but he had no way of knowing how many they would be worth.

After getting the food into several small chunks, Dominic ate only one. The taste made him sick to his stomach, since the processed meat tasted like it was at least a month old, but he manned up and stomached it, trying not to gag. After he swallowed it, he took one cracker and he ate half of it, getting at least some calories into his body.

He stood up and he walked over to the cell door again, tightly grabbing the bars and trying to pull them off. Obviously that didn't work one bit, but he was sure that something could be accomplished.

But then he suddenly had an idea... He saw it in a movie once, so he wasn't sure if it could work. He knew that if you get a piece of cloth wet, then it wouldn't break. What if he ripped one of his sleeves off, got it wet in the toilet, and then rigged it against two of the bars and use strength to open it? It COULD work if he was strong enough! It was worth a shot... He ripped off the sleeve on his right arm and brought it to the toilet, sticking it in and getting it soaked in toilet water. He was happy it was clean water... He then went to the cell door and he tied the sleeve up against two bars, one end on both. He also got the piece of bedframe and he stuck it in through the middle of the sleeve, making it where he could turn the frame and tighten the cloth against the bars, making them bend.

Then, using all of the strength he had, he started to twist and turn the piece of frame, tightening the cloth against the bars with every rotation. He was struggling to do this, but he was somehow managing it. The bars slowly bent millimeter by millimeter, inch by inch, he was actually doing it! He was gonna get out of this shithole!

...Then one of the bars snapped out of its socket, going up and hitting Dominic on the right side of his head. In pain, he let go of the bars and he fell over, landing unconscious on the ground...

"You disappoint me in so many ways..."

Alejandro couldn't believe it... Here he was, sitting on a witness stand and testifying against his own son... His wife died of leukemia just a few months ago. And his twelve year old son is selling drugs now? Stabbing another boy in the chest when he didn't pay up...? The boy lived, thankfully, but he still couldn't believe his son would do something like this... He was so ashamed of him. So disappointed...

Dominic silently sobbed as he sat at the table in his jail hearing, wearing a suit of the orange overalls that he would wear for another four years in Juvenal Hall, his very first stint in any type of jail... He saw his father look at him with a level of shame he never saw before... and he never heard him say something like that before.

...he just wanted his mom back...

Dominic woke up on the floor very early the next morning, his head still hurting from the bar hitting it. A little blood flowed out of a small gash on the side of his head, but it wasn't very deep and he knew it wasn't serious... He was just upset that he didn't get the door open.

Painfully standing up, he clutched the side of his head as he looked at the bar which came off, seeing it landed inside of his cell. One bar was gone but it still wasn't enough to get through. He knew he'd have to try again...

Preferably without getting knocked out by himself next time...

He sighed and he ripped off his other sleeve, tying it up on his forehead and wearing it like a bandana so the blood would get soaked up, sorta like a bandage. It hurt but at least it wasn't bad. When he stood up he felt dizzy, so he hobbled to the bunk and he quickly laid down on it, staring up at the ceiling above him... It didn't feel good to fail at getting out of his cell. He hated his cell more than anything else at this point... He grabbed the cell phone again and he turned it on, aiming the camera at himself as he started recording.

"I'm gonna die in here..." Dominic said, simply.

Dominic then saved the recording and he set the phone down on the floor. He, overcome in worry and fear of his own demise, buried his face into his hands and started violently sobbing...

This was a nightmare and he couldn't wake up from it...