I clench and unclench my hands, trying to calm the bubbling anger that threatens to escape. I know I can't hold it in much longer, but for some reason I know I must wait. I breathe in and out softly, controlling my anger. Once I feel sure that I won't explode into a blazing ball, of white hot fury. I stand and press my face against the bars of my cell. I always did this when I was anxious, for some odd reason it calmed me.                                                    

The cell across from me homed  a girl with black hair, and green eyes, I saw her often, but the cell to the left of her, homed someone new. Their hadn't been a new arrival in years, I had been the last. I squeezed my head closer to the bars, trying to see the new arrival, but I could only see his limp body sprawled on the concrete floor. He hadn't been here long at all, it was pretty obvious he had died last night. I pulled away from the bars, to sit back down on the rickety bed, all the inmates where given. We wern't here because we had commited a crime, no we we're here because we we're special. Most of us, at least. I could sense that about half of us, including me, were special. I looked at the poor boy, sprawled on the concrete floor of his small cell. He hadn't been special, yet he was taken here, to die.

Hours passed, until the boy was finally taken away. A guard walked in, looking absolutely uninterested, he walked straight to the boy's cell, opened it, and started dragging him away. Anger coursed through me, this boy was being handled as though he was nothing. I tried focusing on my breathing, but something was tugging at me, telling me to let it go. It was finally time to unleash my anger.