I was afraid to talk. Also, afraid not to. Bennie always said talking is what I do best. Except for when his shows were on. Or when he needed sleep. Then my constant chatter would irritate him like nothing else. Though I bet my time in the cell came a close second.
The silence in the cell felt stifling. My legs ached. Real bad. They wouldn’t stop shaking, either. I wanted to sit but didn’t know where was OK. Had no good idea of what was allowed. And what wasn’t. I knew the basic rules. The ones I heard them say, anyway. But what about the others? I know they exist. I watch TV. According to Bennie, too much TV.
I was spooked. Absolutely terrified. Didn’t know how I ended up there. Didn’t know how to get out.
I was spooked. Absolutely terrified. Didn’t know how I ended up there. Didn’t kn
