Chapter 10
Leila
“Morning,” DJ smiles, tapping the tip of her key on the bean-hole of my cell door. “How are you feeling?”
I stretch my arms above my head and groan, “Sore.”
“I bet.” She drops her keys back into the front pocket of her scrubs.
I rollover on my side, facing her, and watch her through the rectangle hole in the door usually used to deliver food through.
She glances over her shoulder, her eyes landing on the officer too busy flirting with the CNA at the desk to worry about what we are doing right now.
“Leila, what’s really going on? Who is doing this to you? ”
“I really don’t remember what hurts me. I’m being honest, DJ,” I tell her the truth. I am happy to be able to tell her the truth but depending on who is responsible I might lie to her.
“Ok. I just wanted to ask you while no one was listening. Also, if you hear something against the wall around eleven o’clock, take cover under your bed. Watch the clock. If you don’t hear anything today, listen again tomorrow. Don’t forget.”
My mouth opens to ask her what in the hell she is talking about, but quickly shakes her head, and her eyes dart from me to the officer walking to meet her
“Sorry about that, Kacey had to ask me about something,” the rookie officer tells DJ.
“Not a problem at all. I was just getting ready to give Engelhardt her pills. No rush,” DJ informs him not missing a beat and her normal character returning as if she hadn’t been talking in some cryptic code moments before.
I mechanically nod in agreement, flipping my legs over the side of the bunk, and slip my feet into my uncomfortable shower slides.
Trying to keep up appearances and not tip the officer off that anything is out of the norm, I shuffle to my sink, and fill my cup with water.
I stick my hand out of the hole and DJ drops my pills into my palm.
I swallow them with a couple sips of water and DJ smiles. “See you around, Engelhardt.”
“See you around, DJ,” I repeat the statement back to her while the officer lifts the metal rectangular door up, holding it with his hand as he inserts the key, locking the bean hole.
DJ has never been anything but straightforward.
She’s acting beyond strange. Am I dreaming again?
I don’t think so. After setting my cup on the floor beside the bunk, I pinch my arm just in case.
It hurts immediately and the skin blanches and then turns red.
Nope. I am definitely not asleep. I walk over to the cell door, looking out the window and across the infirmary.
I have been in the medical unit for random things here and there.
I’ve even spent some time here in the infirmary, but never paid too much attention to the layout of the place.
My eyes zero onto the clock across the way hung on the walk behind the U-shaped desk the officers and nurses share.
It’s in the same place as it was the last time I was sent here, but I didn’t expect it to be moved.
Not much changes as far as décor goes around here.
If you are in good with the officers, they allow you to decorate your cell to make it a little more personal.
Nothing huge, of course, but some people make flowers out of toilet paper and stick them to the ceiling and walls with a sticky substance.
Since being incarcerated I’ve learned anything can be used for something else if you have enough imagination.
Women use the colored portions of magazine pages to stain their eyelids and cheeks.
Although I’m not sure how they transfer the color onto their skin.
Others use pads for eye masks. I would have never dreamed of using something intended for a period on my eyes until coming here.
But, when you have not slept for days, sticking a pad on a sock and then tying another to it and around your head is a small blessing.
DJ looks over her shoulder at me and then glances down to the watch on her wrist, tapping its face with her fingertip.
I nod as if I understand what all of this means.
I’ll keep an eye on the clock, but other than that I don’t have the slightest what she is expecting will happen.
If I hear something on the wall…Could she have been more vague?