Four.

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Rukia

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I open my eyes with a rushing feeling of terror. I can't really see anything; just blinding white everywhere. I feel around with my hands and let out a breath when I feel covers, a hard mattress and a pillow underneath my fingertips. I lay my head back down and put my hands flat on my belly as I breathe in and out of my abdomen, as slowly as I can manage. I blink a few times as my normal vision starts to come back.

I had that dream again. The same dream I've had a hundred times before.

I have to talk to Renji.

If they didn't bring any modifications to my schedule, I should be able to go to the Garden at 1:00 p.m. and wait for him there. Most of the time he can't make it, being busy with something else or held off somewhere by someone. He says it's important not to meet regularly as his 'co-workers', as he calls the other guards, could get suspicious of his whereabouts. On top of that, Blue Coats –or guards, if you prefer- and patients never share a real conversation or have an exchange that goes beyond a few sentences or even a few words. If Renji and I were to be seen talking directly to each other for five minutes we would without any doubt draw attention to us, and then… Well, who knew what they would do to us then.

It's still really dark in my room. I don't know what time it is, as there are no time displayed in the bedrooms, so I can't get up yet. Renji once told me the subjects are only to get up from their beds at the bell ring, then they shower, brush their teeth, and wait for a guard to open their door and give them their schedule of the day.

The bell rings at 6:00 a.m. sharp, but like I said, with no way of knowing what time it is right now, all I can do is wait in my bed for it to ring.

I suddenly become very aware of the camera, in the top left corner of my cell, pointing straight at me, and I have to fight my most burning instinct not to turn my head and stare at it; at them.

The thought of people watching me right now makes me so sick, just sitting there behind their desk doing whatever they're paid to be doing. There are cameras in every room and in every hall; basically everywhere but in our individual bathrooms. Renji informed me of that long ago.

The regular loud and piercing morning bell suddenly rings and cuts my thoughts short. The bright light above me suddenly lights up, illuminating the white cube I live in.

6:00 a.m.

I sit up in my small bed, put both my feet flat on the cold floor and get up. I feel a little nauseous and dizzy, but then again, just like every morning. I walk a few steps in an almost robotic way and grab the change of clothes that has been oh so perfectly folded for me and placed on my nightstand. I walk to the door on the left side of the room and turn the knob, entering my personal bathroom. I close the door behind me and finally let out a breath. This is the only place where I feel the tiniest feeling of relief, where there are no cameras watching my every move. But of course, no place in here is perfect; Renji once told me there might be microphones hidden in the walls of the bathrooms. This is why I never allow myself to cry out loud. All I do is turn on the water of the shower and let the tears fall silently, although I would never tell Renji that.

When I'm done showering, brushing my teeth and putting the clean clothes on I get out of the bathroom and put the dirty clothes in a pile on my nightstand, where someone will come pick it up to wash it later. I then sit on the bed, my back perfectly straight and my eyes staring at the wall, waiting for a guard to open my door.

I'm not sure how many minutes passed, but eventually, I hear a familiar beep beep echoing around me, and the door of my room opens.

A guard who's face I might've seen before but can't put a name on looks at me as he stands in the doorway. He has short spikey black hair, dark eyes and a few tattoos on his face. He seems kind, even though he's not smiling. I wonder what's up with all the guards having so many tattoos. I get up and walk up to him as he looks at a paper he's holding on a metallic pad.

"Rukia Kuchiki. 7:00 am. Grand Room," he says, still looking at his paper, then looks up at me.

I nod once, as a normal subject would do, even though I feel like hitting him for repeating the same shit I hear every morning. I wish.

I walk pass him and we both silently move through the hallway, him standing a few feet behind me, until we finally reach the Grand Room.

When we enter the dining hall, or the cafeteria, as Renji calls it sometimes, my guard walks away from me without a word to join the table where other guards are gathered. I have no idea what they're talking about, and I'm not sure I want to know.

I make my usual way to the food counter and grab a food tray along with an empty plastic glass. I never have a big appetite but today is even worse. I look at all the different food dispensers; cereal, yogurt, bread. Just thinking about those raises bile up my throat. I slide my tray past most of the choices until I reach the water dispenser and fill up my glass. I pick up a red apple, put both items on my tray and make my way for my usual table in the corner, where I can eat alone most of the time.

As I sink my teeth in my apple, I shoot a look at some subjects at tables near me. Some are smiling and chatting in small groups or in pairs, and even though I know it's not their fault, they're the ones I absolutely cannot stand. I stopped trying to figure out what they were possibly talking about a long time ago, when I realized it could never be about something I found remotely important. They just speak…empty words. Everything here is empty. Useless. Meaningless. I have the hardest time pretending like their fake, non-questioned happiness doesn't anger me to my very core until it has me shaking with fury, but then again I guess I've gotten pretty good at hiding what I really think.

I see someone sitting down at the table right behind me. I hardly turn around but I can still see who it is; it's that annoyed-looking kid with white hair. I think his name is Hitsugaya; I heard a guard yelling it once. I've never spoken with him, and I rarely see him but when I do, I always notice the same look on his face: hatred. I still can't figure out if it's anger toward others, toward himself, toward this place... He looks younger than most subjects here, and definitely younger than the guards. I have to stop myself from thinking about how old I am, once again. I can't allow myself to go down that road; wondering about my past life –if I even had one- is just eating me up from the inside.

I swallow the bite I've been chewing for the past minute as I shoot a last look across the entire room, turn back to my nearly empty tray and sigh quietly.

I don't know why I even bothered to try anymore. I decided no one here could be trusted a long time ago.

No one except Renji.