43. New Buddy and first Visitor

While going down the open corridor to my cell, I heard other guys cajoling and whistling; it was really like in a fucking movie, so crappy and clichéd. You will see, you fuckers.

I was brought into my cell, the door closed, and the cuffs were taken down. My cellmate was some Black guy, big in stature, but somehow looking as if he was fast to cry. I don't know if I can break this guy. Let's see what he had done. Flexing my free wrists, hurting my broken one again in the process, I stared him down like they do it in the animal world. Whoever looks away first loses.

He lost, probably because of my new eye color, which I found really cool-looking. Anyway. I won. I tried to blink as seldom as possible like Mr. Lector, but that just got me tearing up, so I stopped that.

"Don't you have manners? Don't you shake hands where you come from?" Didn't mean that in a racist manner; sorry if it came out false.