Lifers 9

When the man had gone Lucy tried pushing on the cell door, it rattled but it did little else. Damn him. She looked around to see what she could possibly do to escape should the opportunity arise. But he’s clever; he’d have tested the room for himself. And no doubt found it flawless.

To her right close by the fireplace was a closed door, she’d never seen John, or what ever his real name was enter into it. To her left and close to ceiling height she eyed a small window, the glass was painted black and the bars covering it were fastened to the stone wall both above, and below. Even so, she thought it too narrow for anyone other than a small starved child to squeeze through.

Below the window attached to the wall was a shelf, on that shelf were around a half dozen wire cages containing white rats. She thought unlikely, although nevertheless, her fellow inmates.

Below the shelf stood a bench holding a myriad of glass tubes and measuring beakers. These she considered lab equipment. One other wire cage sat atop the bench and contained another white rat; she noticed this one looked to be almost twice as big as the others. A pet perhaps?

At the end of the bench sat the small white box he’d placed the silver tray in after injecting her. In the wall just beyond the bench was a large square hole with two steel doors resting above a half dozen steps. She remembered seeing them whilst on the scales.

To the right of that exit stood the tall cupboard he’d retrieved the white overalls from, and in front of her against the far wall sat his desk. It contained a short but neatly stacked pile of papers, a green reading lamp, and in the centre above his chair, laid the green book she’d watched him so avidly writing in. His hallowed bible.

On the wall behind her to her right and outside the cell were the steps that led up to the house above. And hanging from the ceiling continually switched on, was a high wattage single naked bulb. Her beacon of solitude.

Lucy felt very tired indeed, she’d no idea what that man injected into her but she was very alert before it happened. His violence saw to that. Bastard!

Touching the back of her head where the needle had been inserted she found a small dry droplet of blood, but thankfully the area wasn’t sore. Unlike the throbbing sensation around her right eye, and the blackened and broken little finger of her right hand. Fucking Bastard!

Lucy soon resigned herself to the uncomfortably hard stones beneath the sheet and curled up once again. Shortly after closing her eyes she drifted off to sleep.