I'd been so set on an escape that was now impossible, and the only form of freedom left to me was death. It was a terrible kind of freedom—one from misery and pain, yes, but also one from lightness and laughter and life. It was an absence of everything.

Knackered inmates are easier to control than pumped-up ones. And dead inmates are even easier to control, if you follow me.

Let me know if you're going to do something stupid, kid, 'cause I'll ditch you like that.

Something in my gut twisted so hard that it felt like I was being tickled by an invisible hand, and it took me a moment to realize what it was. Hope. It had been so long since I'd felt it that the sensation was like something living inside me, something wonderful waiting to break free, just like I was.

As soon as reality breaks, as soon as we're separated from the phsical world, the cracks begin to appear in our minds. And through them seeps the madness that has always been there, flowing into your skull like a liquid nightmare.

But nobody can run from their own demons.

I helped you because you're new, and because when there's two people in a cell then there's only a fifty percent chance they'll take you.