Chapter 4: Company in the Dark

That day, the cell doors opened and closed, new prisoners kept coming in, a lot of empty cells got filled.

I clung to the bars, looking eagerly.

"Give me one, give me one."

The guards looked at me like I was nuts.

Whether out of pity or mockery, they actually put a new cellmate in with me.

It was a man, dragged in by the guards, his legs limp, dragging on the ground like a sack.

He was covered in blood and dust, hair messy over his face, prison jumpsuit in tatters, crisscrossed with whip marks and burns, barely a patch of good skin.

"Officer, who is this, what did he do?"

"Same as you, dead man walking." The guard spat at me, took the flashlight and left.

The cell went dark again. Even though my eyes were used to the dark, I could only see his outline.

He really looked like a dead man, not a sign of breathing.

I squatted down to observe him, shuffled around him in circles, couldn’t help grinning. I grinned so wide my cheeks hurt. God, I was starving for company—any company.

"Hello? Hey man, you alive?"

"Come on, say something."

My heart thumped—not from nerves, but excitement.

If it were before, knowing there was a death row inmate beside me, I would’ve run a mile.

But now, after forty-nine days locked in this tiny place, I almost wanted to end it myself. Even a talking rat I’d worship, let alone a living, breathing person.

Cellmate showed no sign of life.

I brushed aside his messy hair, his hair was sticky with dried blood, and my fingers came away red. I saw his eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling.

I checked his breath—felt warm air at my fingertip.

Good, good, still breathing.

"Hey, how’s the weather outside? Sunny or raining?"

"Since I got here, I haven’t seen a bit of sunlight."

"Man, don’t be so cold. We’re both stuck here, let’s chat."

"What did you do to get sentenced?"

I talked to myself for a long time, so long even the noisy rats quieted down.

I reluctantly believed it.

Sigh, looks like cellmate got tortured into silence.

For a long while, I just watched his chest rise and fall, the smallest movement proving he was still alive. The silence between us was almost companionable, like two late-night AM radio listeners too tired to call in, but still tuned to the same frequency. Despite everything, I felt a little less alone.