After a couple of painful moments of rest, I staggered up and looked around to see Billy take over Shaun’s watch of me. Billy held the taser out.

Tracy boasted they’d equip all cops with these new tasers by 1990. They were meant for long-range, instead of the short-ranged stun gun. The last time Billy had a taser, he shot the escapee Wanda in the back. She was taken to the hospital and we never saw her again. We were the guinea pigs before the product was approved for use by the police. I hoped they would never approve it.

I backed away from Billy. As my back pinned to the cold hard steel of the chain-linked fence, I had a flashback. My dream led me here, to the small shed on the other side of the fence. I must’ve dreamed about this wooden shack a dozen times. In my dreams, a mysterious purplish light, even some smoke, emanated from it. The light pulled on me like gravity, drawing me nearer and nearer. There was an inexplicable feeling inside, that if I reach it, I would be in a safe bubble, impervious to harm. I wrapped my arms around myself, my hands clenched tightly onto my sleeves. I just couldn’t fill the void of that safe feeling.

Now I could see a pulsing purple mist coming out from under the crudely padlocked door. Déjà vu. This happened in my dream. Now it was happening for real. I hooked my fingers into the metal fence as my body flushed hot and tingly.

Out of nowhere, a giant white moth? Butterfly? A moth, I decided, flew frantically towards the shed.

"You should run away," Billy said, startling me out of staring into the darkness and into his long, flowing Hillbilly locks. "Like Wanda." He smiled a joker of a smile, a smile so wide the ends reached the tops of his cheeks. "Or stay here, and I could say you ran."

If I ran away, if I attempted a jail-break, I would only be giving him what he wanted.

I ran anyway. I don’t mean escaping the prison. I ran all the way back to my building, scurrying my way out of the spotlight. The way of the roach.

Once inside, I tiptoed around the rest of the sleeping tenants to the corner of the barracks, to where my grandmother slept fitfully with chronic, phlegm-filled coughs. I felt her forehead every night to make sure she hadn’t run a fever.

Months of this lifestyle wasn’t sustainable. I needed my grandmother out of here.