I'm sorry chris. I'm sorry for all those nasty hurtful things I said, I hope your happy with Jake, I honestly do, I'm sorry I judged you both. I never wanted to argue but keena was so upset, again I'm sorry, I won't give my opinion on anything that you do anymore I'll keep my nose out of your business Jake: I'm sorry for all the hateful things I said to you too, I never meant one word, I dont blame you for anything, I blame myself for being a cow to you, I dont mean to be a nasty person but sometimes I am, I don't hate you either I'm sorry
Chapter 2: Jonah couldn't remember how to sleep, let alone dream. Here he was, seventeen years old, with a future as dismal as his past. He checked his crappy watch with the luminous hands for the tenth time that minute. Nearly five to three in the morning. In the distance, an echoing crash. Jonah didn't react, didn't question it. Outside was another world and had little meaning here. Nothing could reach him through the gates and the guards and the high walls. Even the sunlight was scrag-end stuff, thin and grey over the gardens and excercise yard, like the days had a job to just drag themselves past dawn. Jonah closed his eyes and pictured himself flying beyond the dreary confines of the detention center, running barefoot outside through wide-open fields, splashing inthe sea - all te crap he'd never contenplated for a second when he'd actually had the chance. While te others basked in the warmth on their skins, jonah had only ever felt it faintly through closed curtains, trying to keep the glare of the monitor screen. That was his window on to an easier world, one where he could break the rules and it was OK, it was clever... Jonah wish - the great code-breaker. Or the great freak in the eyes of just about everyone else. Cracking ciphers. Inventing his own. Encrypting stuff, Translating stuff - all just a big game to him until - Sudden footfalls in the corridor distracted him. He pictured the warders in thier grey uniforms, black boots slapping down on the ivory tiles, grumbling as they were goaded into action. someone caught using again? Another suicide? Jonah sighed. Who cared? It would be all over the block by breakfast, and he would know then. For what it was worth. His watch read a minute closer to three.
The feeble light skulking about the edges of the cell door brightened for a few moments with neon intensity. Men shouted in alarm before a dudden silence fell, thick as the darkness entered jonah's room. It was broken only by the sound of nimble footsteps on the tiles. Getting louder. Closer. Unnerved now, jonah rose from his bunk. The footsteps had stopped.
It was quite as a grave out there. 'its all right,' he told himself wiping the cold sweat from his forehead 'its all right, your locked in. Nothing can get through that door.' There came a snatch of tuneless whistling from out-side, and some scrapes and ratchets. Then with a heavy roll of tumblers, the door opened a crack.
Jonah felt like a frozen rabbit in a truck's headlights. There was nowhere to hide. In desperation he dropped down and slid under his bunk. The door was kicked open and a yellow light spilled in from the corridor.
From his hiding place Jonah saw a kid a few years younger than him, fourteen fifteen maybe, standing in the doorway. He had a cheeky face, scattered with freckles. The black joggers and clinging polo neck he wore emphasised his scrawny physique. He sported a black patch like a pirate's over his left eye. 'Hey,' the skinny kid said. 'Jonah wish?'