INT. PRISON CELLBLOCK A, CELL — MORNING

DAY 3 – PRISON CELL – 15th NADITE 1995

Anabelle is up early but remains in her bed staring at the ceiling

Another day.

I’m alive at least. I am grateful.

ANASTASIA: “Morning.”

Ana is awake… already. She must be an early bird.

ANABELLE: “Morning.”

I have a sudden need to use the toi—

I’ve only now just registered a toilet and sink next to the cell door on Ana’s side.

That probably explains the unpleasant smell.

Funny and humiliating at the same time, I can’t imagine myself doing a… bowel movement… but…

Anabelle’s bowel rumbles and gurgles loudly

Anastasia smirks at Anabelle

That was loud.

ANASTASIA: “Toilet is over there.”

I’m embarrassed.

However sitting here holding my stomach is going to do nothing.

I need to… pass waste.

I’m trying my best to hold back the gases coursing through my bowel.

Oh no…

I… I think I’m about to rip one…

ANASTASIA: “You probably may not want to hold it in for too long…”

She’s right.

The longer I hold it in the more it builds up.

It’s like—

Anabelle gets up off the bed and waddles to the toilet

She looks back to see if Anastasia is looking

ANABELLE: “Do you have to watch?”

Anastasia averts her gaze to the ceiling

What difference does it make?

We’re in the same cell.

Anabelle pulls down her undergarments and proceeds to sit on the toilet seat

Well… here goes…

She clenches her buttocks to pinch off the stool to create less noise

Not-so-loud, not-so-loud, not-so-loud…

ANASTASIA: “Ate something bad?”

ANABELLE: “I’m assuming so. The fish seemed a little undercooked.”

In fact, all three meals were horribly prepared.

ANASTASIA: “I remember my previous cellmate. Felicia was her name…”

Is she… talking to me?

She doesn’t seem too bothered with me… doing this.

ANABELLE: “What about her?”

ANASTASIA: “Nothing too special. Except that she was very bossy and had quite the boy-ish side to her…”

As she talked I felt a large piece of stool drop, causing the cold water to splash up against my buttocks.

ANABELLE: “What was she like?”

ANASTASIA: “She had a ‘didn’t care’ vibe and was very reckless.”

ANABELLE: “What happened to her?”

ANASTASIA: “She got transferred for assaulting an officer.”

Anabelle reaches for the toilet roll

She takes three sheets of three and neatly folds them

ANABELLE: “What reminded you of her?”

ANASTASIA: “Just something that came into my mind.”

The prison bell was sounded promptly waking up the inmates

ANASTASIA: “Oop… Time for another day.”

Anabelle cleans herself and flushes the toilet

She approaches the sink, washes her hands before brushing her teeth

It’s funny how I didn’t take notice of the toilet and sink provided.

I must’ve been so fragmented that I failed to take note of my surroundings.

Despite the cell being cold and somewhat in slight decay, there is a nice little desk located at the foot of my bed next to the cell door.

Not that it is anything special. But it makes the cell a little more… decorative.

Ana seems to be in ‘good’ spirits.

Without struggle she gets out of bed and begins to tidy up.

Perhaps now is my chance to talk to her.

ANABELLE: “Hey…ahh… I wanted to ask you something… something a bit… personal.”

ANASTASIA: “I’m listening.”

ANABELLE: “What… was life like for you?”

She takes a brief moment of silence before answering.

ANASTASIA: “Well before I got to where I am now I lived in North-West Rodchester with my… parents and two older brothers.”

Her tone seemed a little… distraught.

ANABELLE: “What was your family like?”

ANASTASIA: “My father was an… author and publisher. My mother had her own small social enterprise and marketing business.”

ANABELLE: “Past tense? What happened?”

She remained silent for a moment.

Maybe it was too personal.

ANABELLE: “I’m sorry for asking…”

ANASTASIA: “It’s fine. My parents… they…”

All of a sudden she became dejected.

I’m assuming something happened to her parents.

Just like I lost my mother ten years ago.

ANABELLE: “It’s… okay…”

I move to comfort her as she began to cry.

I could only empathise with her.

ANABELLE: “I… lost my mother… when I was only… five. She… was the world to me.”

A tear forms from Anabelle’s eye as she returns to fix her bed

ANASTASIA: “I’m… sorry to hear about that.”

Anabelle and Anastasia finish tidying up their section of the cell

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