They say you should get a good night’s sleep before a test, but this might be the exception. I haven’t slept for a week. A broken nose and a missing ear is all good, but a week without sleep can add five years to a face. Dry patchy skin and pus-filled pimples, heavy black bags beneath my eyes; by the time assessment day arrives I’m a goddamn zombie. Only problem is, my big day is gonna be bigger than they expect, and I’ll need my wits about me.
A half-dozen of us were rounded up after morning roll call. I recognise a few faces but they’re nothing special. My cell is on the highest floor, and that means I’m top dog in this ragged-ass crew. As they tie our hands behind our backs, I look around at each of the gathered men. Damn, they’re a sorry bunch. I’ve worked overtime to make myself look
