Breakfast

The Chasers rush us from our cells, but before leaving mine, I notice a girl who seems too weak to get up from the floor, so pale she is almost grey. Yesterday's bleedings have drained her.
I see a Chaser looking at her with irritation. Before he can do anything, I go to the girl and help her up, lifting her on her feet. She weights nothing in my hands. As we move to the corridor, I support her. She needs to eat - drink something at least. As foul as the breakfast here is, I believe it's better than nothing. Living on the streets taught me to eat anything...

I hadn't slept.
My first few days in the Asylum had molded into one timeless blur.
This was my first morning out of quarantine and I shrunk back against the wall as the Chasers came thundering in to the cell, wrenching us to our feet and only adding to the myriad of bruises across our broken bodies.
I kept my eyes to the floor as we were herded down the long corridor and into what I presumed was the dining hall, full of other inmates residing in various degrees of sanity.

I was shoved roughly onto one of the hard benches, my head slammed into the table before me. I spat blood from my cut tongue at the bastard who did it, but this only earned me another slap to the face I immediately came to regret my decision when, instead of undoing the straps of my straight jacket, he simply walked away.

I sighed, carefully pulling myself up into a sitting position. Looks like I was stuck in a permanent hug for the remainder of the day. The other girls were being handled in much a similar way to me. My heart cried out for them, but I had my own problems to worry about.

I am sitting in the dining hall, chewing a bone, when some of my friends are led in. I yip happily when I see them, but pause when I see a new inmate I don't recognize. She sits apart from the others, hardly daring to look our way. I want to talk to her, but am distracted by W10L, W02Y, W02X, and W06L joining me at my table. I hope W05W arrives soon too, then I can eat with all my friends!

I try to make amiable chatter with my friends, trying not to ask why they look so battered and bruised. I wonder if I look the same as them, but I imagine not. Today the sun was shining around my cell (isn't it a wonder how so little sunlight gets in here?) which probably helped lessen the sickness that plagues all the Asylum girls.

We pause in conversation when the new inmate drops her spoon. She looks afraid, eyes darting around as though everyone might attack her. 'Ah,' I think to myself. 'She must think the rumors are true. All girls locked up are 'dangerous', 'crazy' monsters. Well, time to prove that she can trust us.'

Hesitantly, I crawl over to her, for I always prefer to be crouched like my wolf family. "Hello ma'am," I say, quietly. "Is this your first meal with us?" Before she can respond, if she would respond at all, I drop a tiny mint leaf I found on one of my romps around the Walking Yard in front of her. "Here, I don't like plants much myself, but maybe this'll make the meal taste a little more humane."

I glanced up as a wild-haired girl crawled towards me. Her appearance was feral but her eyes were soft and kind.
'Hello ma'am,' her voice was barely above a whisper 'Is this your first meal with us?'
Crouched next to me she dropped a small leaf next to my bowl, suggesting it might make the meal more bearable. I looked down doubtfully into the watery gruel and lifted the tiny leaf to my nose. My nostrils were immediately filled with the herbal scent of peppermint. My mother had always smelled of peppermint, and for the first time since arriving at the Asylum, I smiled.
I looked down at the feral girl still crouched next to me and let out a barely audible 'Thank you.'
At that moment, one of the girls at the far end of the table with her hands strapped in some sort of restrictive garment dove headfirst into her breakfast and I was brought quickly and brutally back to the reality of my situation.

I help the pale girl to the table, get some porridge to her and myself, and then take a look around the poor creatures trying to force the breakfast down. There is so many of us, but so little strength. As the girl I've been helping starts to eat, I notice an unfamiliar girl in a straitjacket sitting farther away from me. I know how uncomfortable that cursed garment is. It makes one's arms numb and shoulders aching. I take a look around and see no Chasers around, so I quickly and warily inch towards her and place my hand gently on her shoulder.

"Do you want me to help you out of that?", I ask her quietly.