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He was sent out of the hospital two hours later. The nurse had watched him dress, apparently she was ordered to by the doctor. He still liked to think otherwise. He dressed under her watch and didn't say a word about it. Her face was red though, and this made him think he had a chance with her. He was thrown out of the medical ward and sent back to his cell. The yellow cushions comforted him greatly and after an hour of sitting there, he realized he was sane again.
It was a strange feeling, sanity, he had lived most of these past years insane. His mind whirling around and around, unable to think straight for five minutes. He felt like he could live normally again. The guard outside his cell fell asleep in front of the barred doors.
He sat against the cushion, thinking about his life now. He sat so still, he could have been mistaken for a corpse, but upon closer investigation, one could see his chest rising and falling in rhythm. He knew it was day outside, yet he had no clock. He knew the guard outside had a cold, yet he had not spoken nor coughed in at least an hour. Why he knew these things was beyond him, maybe he'd noticed it and just didn't think about it. Maybe he left the Mind Gate with a power. He didn't care for it. Knowing something he shouldn't would ultimately lead back to insanity. Right? Well, if he left it was most certainly a gift!
He also knew he could kill the guard.
He wore a blue shirt with the sleeves folded up. He had a hat sitting on his chair and a tazer on his black belt. He sat in his folded metal chair against the wall.

Jamie had just gotten onto this stupid post. He had better things to do than watch some guy in a cell for six hours a day. Oh but what if they escaped? Who cares, they can't think straight for two minutes, let alone figure out how to work a tazer or gun. But he could be like Arnold down in the morgue. He has to watch dead bodies and the doctors who ******** 'em. He's not allowed to though, the Docs might report him. Who'll they believe? The Good Doctor or the Horny Guard? So James sat, his left leg folden over his right. Eyes half moon and a slow trail of blue saliva dripping from his mouth, which he wiped away with his arm. He checked his watch, still half asleep, and saw he had one more hour until he can go home to his stash of porn. He lived alone in an apartment on the west side of Haven City. He'd gotten the apartment about twelve years ago in 2013. No wife, no kids, no girlfriend, just cheap hookers and the diseases that come with them. He let his arm fall over the side of the chair and let his eye lids close shut. Slowly, his breathing settled and the trail of saliva regained its hold on his chin. Silently, hands slipped through the bars of the cell. They eased down to his throat, his eyes opened slightly. The hands clenched down full force, his eyes opened wide, shocked, but only for a moment. His body oozed in it's chair and his legs kicked for a moment or two.
Then fell limp. The trail of saliva cumulated on the tile floor.

(( More to come ))