I ate the crackers, drank my water, and sat down at the tablet. I’d come up with an arc for the next ten chapters. My head was dizzy from the lack of food and the bad water, but I kept my fingers moving - it was the sort of determination I’d read about in the cultivation books - where the hero grinds for year after year to improve his skills and position in life.

My fingers flew over the buttons, then started to ache. I wanted a keyboard - but was worried about how much they’d cost.

I learnt to count the days by the number of times Alex changed his tie. It took me three ties - a blue one, a zebra one, and a maple leaf one to finish the ten chapters.

In that time my rating went from 1 to 0.25 - most were zero stars, apart from someone who trolled everyone else by posting a five-star review.

5/5 Stars Will change not only your life, but the way you view the universe, Shrek, and your sandwich. Thank me later.

Still - the review led to views. I was getting 200 views a day - enough for a small loaf of bread.

My ribs were sticking out through my skin and I started to use the blanket, which left me with insect bites all over my skin.

I learnt that I also had to pay 20 views to have the poop bucket removed and cleaned, so that ate into my budget.

As I wearily cranked out chapters, I knew I had no hope of making enough progress to stay alive. I needed something big. Something grand that would blow people out of the water, and get me so many views I’d be able to buy enough to eat.

One day I sat hunch over in the corner of my room - being blasted by Alex. I’d insulted him. Not because I was angry, but because I simply couldn’t afford to pay for regular water.

As the water blasted my face, I thought about my situation. How no one on the outside would believe me if I told them about it.

I stared at Alex’s business-like face as he targeted my ears and nostrils and it was in that moment that I came up with my grand scheme to make it as a web fiction author.

****

Instead of buying bread the next day - I bought the cover app.

‘What are you up to Mr… ahhh… Hill?’ Alex said, he was wearing an orange tie.

I shrugged, ‘I’m about to become the greatest web author this damn website has ever seen.’

Alex laughed. He laughed and laughed until he had to loosen his orange tie, ‘Stick to writing kid, you’ll never make it as a stand-up comedian.’

I just rolled my eyes.

I had 210 views that day - so I spent 100 of them buying the cover maker, and the other 110 to buy 11 rice crackers which I soaked in the dish before eating. They were super gross that way, but more filling.

After that, I created a new cover for The One Who Walks Alone, using a stock image I found in the app.

Then, I created a second cover - this time for my new book - my gambit, the thing that would hopefully leave me with a full belly by the end of the week.

It had some cartoon dude staring out a window with white text above. I would've preferred something with a keyboard or computer, but hey... authors locked in cramped cells can't be choosers.

Then I started to write - the words flowed easily, I pulled on my experience as both a reader and in real life. I marvelled at the sentences. Laughed at a couple of my jokes. When the first chapter was ready I hit the post button, and dove right into the second one.

By the time I’d written my third chapter, Alex was calling me. I tried to end the call and continue onto the fourth chapter, but he wouldn’t stop calling. The tablet vibrated with an angry buzz.

‘Alex,’ I said, ‘Nice tie.’

Alex was wearing a boring black tie, which was nicely offset by the red of his face.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ He screamed, ‘You think this is a game? You think you’re invincible!! My boss and his boss have been up my ass.’

‘Why?’

He windmilled his hands, then slammed them on the desk. ‘Why!?! WHY!!’ Spit flew from his mouth, ‘Your new book is why! You know the damage you’re causing to my reputation?’

I just shrugged.

Alex rubbed his forehead, there was a little vein sticking out of it, ‘I’ve locked the book. You won’t be able to write another chapter.’

‘What?!’ I said, ‘You can’t!’

‘I can.’ he shouted back, ‘I’d delete it if I had the authority.’

He shook his head, ‘Unfortunately, books can only be deleted by top management - it’s company policy to have as much content as possible.’

I breathed a sigh of relief.

‘But!’ he cut in, ‘I expect your book will be taken down within the next two days.’

I hung my head - that was it. My chance at making it big was gone.

‘Do me a favour,’ Alex spat, ‘Stick to your Wuxia, don’t cause trouble, follow the damn rules.’

And with that, the call ended.

****

I spent two days in agony. Alex didn’t call me and so I went without food. My stomach groaned constantly, and I couldn’t sleep.

I wrote a couple of miserable chapters of The One Who Walks Alone but they were crud, and I knew it, my mind kept going back to my new novel.

On the second day, Alex called me. His face was white, and he was again, wearing a black tie.

‘Mr Hill.’ He said, this time he didn’t have to check my name on his sheet of paper.

‘Yeah?’

‘How are you doing?’

I frowned, searching for the trap, ‘I’m… I’m hungry.’

‘That’s right,’ he said, ‘I didn’t call you yesterday, I’m sorry, I was distracted…’ he stared off into the corner of his office, ‘Let me get you something.’

He pressed a button and there was a clanking from above me, It was far heavier than the bread or crackers I usually got.

There was a clinking sound, and then an entire roast chicken fell onto the ground in front of me. It was followed by a plate of hot potatoes, and three loaves of bread. I stared at the haul, my mouth hanging open in shock.

Alex gave a grim smile.

I picked off a leg of the chicken, tasted it - heavenly. My stomach roared and I grabbed the other leg, chowing down on the drumstick.

‘They declined to take your web fiction down,’ Alex said.

I wanted to ask him why, but my stomach was firmly in charge. I kept scoffing down the chicken.

‘Over the three days it’s been up, it’s garnered six thousand views,’ Alex said, ‘It usually takes thirty or forty chapters to reach that sort of an audience.’ The man shook his head, ‘They want you to pour all your energy into it, and…’ The man pulled at his tie like it was a hangman’s noose, ‘And they want me to give you special coaching.’

‘This is big.’ I said between a mouthful of chicken.

‘Yeah, it’s big,’ he said, ‘But my bosses think it could be massive.’

He promised to call the next day, then hung up. I finished all the chicken, potatoes, and polished off two loaves of bread. My stomach was stretched to its limit, and I felt sick. But I didn’t care. I had a full belly.

Then I cracked my fingers and started writing.

What is the name of the book you wrote? You might be wondering, And how can I get a copy?

Well - the short answer is, you’re reading it right now. That’s right mo-fos. I am literally just writing what happens to me in this cell. I’m not very good at creating stories from scratch so I’m just writing my own experiences.

I am going to let you know what happens to me on my journey to becoming the greatest web fiction writer of all time. I’ve got a million-dollar loan to pay off, and food to earn.

Let’s do this.