Siren Awakened - C.R. Jane Page 0,6

and I had no doubt about that, except determination curled in my chest.

I didn’t hear him walking away, but I refused to look up, just in case he remained outside my cell, and instead, I welcomed sleep as it finally feathered around the edges of my sight. Falling into sleep came fast and snatched me away.

I opened my eyes to the sound metal clicking…the familiar noise of my prison cell door unlocking.

Panic wrenched through me, and I scrambled out of bed, half expecting to find Keon making his way inside. Except, he wasn’t there. No one was…the doors were on an automatic sensor to open up that way every morning.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “How long have I been sleeping?” I mumbled to myself.

Outside in the corridor, inmates started emerging from their cells and making their way to the bathroom or mess hall, I guessed. Speaking of which, I was in major need of a wash, so not wasting another second, I grabbed clean clothes and shoes from the shelf at the back of my room. Quickly, I headed to the communal showers. I recognized many of the other prisoners, mostly females who, like me, preferred to wash before the men came in.

On fast steps, I finally arrived in the bathroom and made quick work to grab a towel and head into the cubical in the corner. Less likely of people walking past and poking their head inside.

I drew the flimsy plastic curtain shut and undressed, then I dumped the dirty clothes in a pile. I flung the towel and fresh clothes over the curtain railing. Turning around, I switched on the water. Cold water sprayed over my body, but I wasn’t complaining.

While I washed in ultra-fast mode, memories hovered at the edges of my mind just before I died. Afterward, there was nothing but darkness. I searched deeper through my thoughts as though there was something I had forgotten… Something just out of reach.

Nothing.

Why couldn’t I remember anything from the afterlife? I had read so many articles and seen shows about people experiencing a white light or something when they died. Disappointment slithered over me at not recalling anything.

Except, I wasn’t exactly the same now, was I?

Food tasted like I was eating it for the first time. The constant humming in my ears, like the television was left on a static channel, continued. Then there was that sensation that I didn’t quite fit in my skin. That was a stupid way of explaining it, but the strange sensation lingered.

A coldness sank deep into my bones at the thought that I’d come back different. I’d read Pet Cemetery enough times to know things went askew when death was involved. A tremble raced down my spine. Clearly, I was overthinking this and letting it get to me. What I needed were actual facts. And that meant paying the library a visit and reading up on other death-like encounters. But first, I had to check into the kitchen to see if I was on shift work. Not like I could sit around overthinking everything until it drove me crazy.

By the time I’d dried myself and gotten dressed, I started to feel some level of normalcy. I made a quick pit stop in my cell to comb my wet hair and apply deodorant and then marched into the mess hall. The whole time, I scanned the hallways for any sign of Keon, terrified he’d come out and drag me into a room to talk. But that was the last thing I desired. Throwing myself into work sounded like the perfect solution.

Inmates already strolled into the room, lining up for their breakfast. From the corner of my eye, I scanned them for any familiar faces. My heart thumped in my chest that I might see Alaric, but he wasn’t there. I rushed past and headed to the door near the food station against the back wall, where I normally collected my cart for delivery. It wasn’t there.

My stomach growled at the delicious aroma of toast.

The door suddenly opened, and Boris, the head chef, emerged, wearing a blue apron, his long hair drawn into a ponytail. His gaze met mine, and upon recognizing me, his eyes narrowed. He looked angry. I cringed, well aware of what was coming.

“You’re late,” he barked, drawing attention from several inmates nearby lining up for their meal.

“I’m sorry. I-I—”

He sneered, then a softness washed over his expression. “Heard what happened to you, so I’ll overlook it this time only.