"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Ruggahissy
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((Caleb Diamond: start))


Caleb was curled up in the corner of the room near a cot. His breathing was shallow and he felt queasy, thirsty and weak. His eyes were brimming with tears, but he wasn't crying just yet.

"How is this ? How is this ? How is this ?" he muttered to himself.

How was it fair? They were being punished for what? Why? Everyone saw the same thing that he did. He didn't trust them. They were his friends out there, but he couldn't trust them no matter how much he liked them. He squeezed his eyes shut and a few tears dripped down.

He felt his heart beat rapidly as he hugged his knees. He'd never thought about trust a great deal. If you'd have asked him about if he felt he could trust his friends the day before he probably would have shrugged and said "Maybe. I guess." It was hard as it was for him to have faith in people being decent to other people when he saw how easily someone could flip given the right motivation in person. They would break any trust he had left, probably within a few hours. Caleb didn't think of himself as a naive person, but now yesterday's Caleb seemed hopelessly glib.

Caleb swallowed hard. He tried to stand. His legs gave way when he tried and he collapsed onto the floor next to a crusty and ancient brown stain. Blood or shit from a crazy person who probably died in this building just like he would. He reached into his pocket for a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, they were the only thing he could think of that might calm him down. It was no good. His hands were shaking so much he could barely hold the crinkled package. The more he looked at his hands the sicker he felt. There was no way he'd be able to work a lighter in this condition.

He wasn't sure if it was fear or anger that paralyzed him. He hated with every inch, from his heels to his hands. He contracted into himself, laying in a fetal position.

How long am I going to have to wait to die?

He would have preferred if they could have just shot him in the head on the bus. He'd never been thirstier in his life, but he couldn't un-tense himself. The blood rushed to his ears, making all he heard around him white noise. Caleb felt like he would probably faint any second from the shock. If he was lucky someone would shoot him in the head after.
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