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Lunar Penal Colony – Part 3

Dates will certainly pose an interesting challenge, from the way things are looking. As mentioned yesterday, I probably should remove references to actual dates, leaving only the reference to the birthday. Instead of “birthday tomorrow” it should probably be “birthday today.” That might help the narrative a bit. – Trasee

No food or drink was given on the bus. No one was allowed to get up or move around. We were stuck, chained to our seats, until the end of the day. I passed the time by counting each of my fellow prisoners as they were escorted onto the bus. For added amusement, I found some sort of odd quirk associated to them, and gave them a name related to that quirk. For example, the crying woman I gave the name Weeping Willow. When all was said and done, there were eleven of us being taken to the detention center, our next stop on our way to the moon.

I have no idea how long we were driving. Three, four hours, maybe? All I know is that it took forever to reach the detention center, and my bladder was painfully protesting the wait. The detention center was located on a military airstrip quite a distance away from any known civilization. Not that I cared about that. The only thing I cared about was getting to a bathroom before I peed my pants.

We were let off the bus in the same order we were brought on, so I was the third one off, after Weeping Willow. The large wet spot I saw on the back of her pants let me know that I wasn’t the only one struggling with a full bladder, but at least I had fared better than her, at least for now.

I was led to my cell and my cuffs were removed before the door was closed and locked behind me. There was a single bed, low to the floor, with a pillow but no blanket. A small table with a tray of food was next to the bed. Next to that was a toilet, with no privacy whatsoever, and a sink with no soap or towel. My bladder was screaming at me now, and the fact that there was no privacy was the least of my concerns.

Quickly, I unzipped my pants, pulled them and my undershorts down, and sat down on the toilet. Using my hand, I guided my birth defect down so I could urinate into the toilet properly. I let out a sigh of relief as my overfull bladder began to empty itself.

“What the fuck, man? What kind of dude sits down when he takes a leak?” I looked up and across to the cell opposite me. It was man I didn’t recognize from the bus, a prisoner that must have been here when I arrived. He was sitting on his bed, long blond hair a matted mess and the whites around his blue eyes blood shot. He was extremely thin, like he hadn’t eaten in days. Beach Bum Barry, I called him in my mind, but didn’t answer him. “Ok, don’t answer me, but that’s still fuckin’ weird, ya know?”

After I finished, I cleaned myself with a bit of toilet paper before washing my hands. I didn’t like the fact there was no soap, but I didn’t really have room to protest. With that done, I turned my attention to the meal. A piece of boneless fried chicken, some fries, and a piece of bread on a paper plate. Not a lot of food, but at least it was something.

“Hey weirdo. Whacha in for?” I looked up at him as I ate the chicken. I didn’t answer his question. I just wanted to eat in peace. “Me? Wrong place and wrong time, man. Was trying to score, only turned out I was buying from a cop. Was a major bummer, ya know? What about you? Still don’t wanna talk? I’ve been here since yesterday, man, I need to talk to someone, ya know? We’re in this together, ya know.”

“Tired. Just wanna eat and sleep.” My voice was distorted, I could hear it when I spoke. I hated the sound of my voice. Not only was it the voice of a man, but it was forced and drawn out from my brain damage.

“You really sound fucked up, man. No wonder ya don’t wanna talk. Did you not score your fix either? I bet you were snatched like I was. Those pigs can sure be tricksy, ya know?” Beach Bum Barry continued to ramble on but I stopped listening. I finished eating and lay down on the bed, closing my eyes, and trying to tune out his incessant ramblings. I don’t know when his voice faded, and when I fell asleep, but I was grateful for it. At least in sleep I could escape my fate for a night.

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