Monday, July 1st
The next evening, Christian fetched Patrick for breakfast and pressed two packs of cigarettes into his hand, but no one else talked to him. He ate, then trudged forlornly back to his room where he finished off the second bottle. He thought Margaret might have brought him food at one point, but the memories were smeared and he couldn't be sure.
Night three started with a flaming red sky. Patrick tried to hide his head under his pillow. He still heard the knock and the word "breakfast" anyway.
He got dressed, took a couple of pills with a palm full of water, and stumbled downstairs. A marching band had moved into his head and he couldn't hear over the sound. It didn't matter since no one talked to him. Again.
He ate, then weaved out the door and upstairs. He could hear t
