D.N.A: Does Not Assimilate

When Nurse Smiley had explained that Greenwood preferred not to keep those in isolation completely isolated, what she meant to say Dr. Wenchell didn't want them completely on their own for an extended period of time. Communication never factored into the equation. Niyota was escorted to the cafeteria by the woman, but was directed towards the back when she thought to step in line with the rest of the patients.

Nurse Smiley stopped at an empty table pressed to the far wall of the cafeteria, flanked on both sides by guards and tapped fingers on the corner. "You will sit here. One of the cafeteria staff will deliver your food." "Whatever," she grumbled moodily.

She shot a look. "Be good."

Rolling her eyes heavenward at the woman's warning, showing just how little she cared about what this woman or anyone else said. She'd stopped caring a long time ago. Noticing the men take a step towards her, aware that both believed she would cause problems for them, Niyota held her hands up in surrender. "Cool it boys, I'm not gonna make a fuss." Then promptly sitting down on the bench seat, watching as both of them immediately stepped back in line, she leaned back against the wall.

Food came a while later.

Tipping her head in gratitude at the dark haired guy that worked in the kitchen, she welcomely accepted the tray of food delivered to the table. More out of necessity than desire. It'd been almost twenty-four hours since her last meal, having been passed out cold at dinner last evening. A decision she was deeply regretting. Waiting until the kitchen hand started back to the food carts at the front of the cafeteria, Niyota picked up the sandwich and took a big bite. Not the most appetizing meal she'd ever had, but it could've been worse. Much worse.

The bell rang.

"Get up!" one guard hissed.

Aware that mealtime had come to an end, she grabbed the uneaten apple on the corner of her tray and stood up from the table. Walking to the trash can closest to where she'd been eating, the leftover food was dumped inside and the empty tray was placed on top.

Guard 2 stepped forward. "You can't take that outta here."

She took a big bite. "I'm eating it."

"Ohhh," he growled.

The first guard placed a hand on his arm, shaking his head. "Just leave it, Bill. The girl can be a royal pain in my ass I know, but it ain't worth getting your ass canned over. Let her have the damned thing." "Whatever." He shoved a nightstick to her back. "Go."

Snickering underneath her breath at that, aware that the man wanted to clobber her for her actions, and in this case he'd be justified. The man had been made to look like a complete ass, not only in front of his fellow friends and co-workers, but the other patients at Greenwood. Niyota found it hilarious that she had been able to get at least one of these fuckers back. Served them right for everything they'd been doing to her since she had arrived, more than two weeks ago. It was petty revenge, but well worth it.

Following the rest of the patients across the cafeteria floor, knowing what was expected of her; she was sure to keep a careful distance between them. When all of the patients had walked out the door, noticing that guard 2-Bill as his partner called him went to press his nightstick to her back again, she quickly followed suit. The last thing she needed was to give anyone any further reason to punish her, that would only result in leaving her in worse condition she already was. Niyota didn't have any plans to be spending the remainder of her stay-for however long before she got the hell out of there as one gigantic bruise. It'd be hard enough to recover.

Trotting down a flight of stairs at the rear of the hospital, she took the next forty steps as fast as her injured body would allow, without crumbling. Coming to the landing, Niyota reached for the door that would lead out to the fenced in yard, only to have a hand pull her back. Guard 1 towered over her. "The rules are simple. You will be permitted yard time as long as you don't converse with the other patients and stick to the left side of the court. Are we clear?" "Crystal,” she returned.

He let go. "Then proceed."

Once the man had given her the go ahead-what she'd been waiting for-she pushed the door open and stepped out onto the asphalt. Feeling the ground beneath her feet, the wind brushing across her face, Niyota tossed her head back and sighed in pleasure as the heat of the sun soaked into her. God, it felt good. Better than she could've ever imagined. It felt like forever since she'd experienced such joys that others took for granted. Come to think about it, it had. Though those brief hours she spent wandering around in the forests on the mountain was only weeks ago, she didn't see as it really counted. She hadn't had the time to enjoy it. A year. It had been a year-nearly so anyway-since the last time Niyota had stood outside, allowing the sun and the breeze to sweep over her. And the last time, she too, had taken the opportunity for granted.

Never again.

Now, in the face of what she'd been living since she had returned to her home, she realized just how inconsiderate and ungrateful she'd been. She'd had the world laid at her feet, a father who loved her to pieces, a nice house and money to do with whatever she liked, friends and family. And she'd appreciated none of it. Not like she should've. Back then Niyota had merely looked upon it as a fact of life, something that was simply supposed to be. She never took the time to stop and think, to realize how hard her father tried to give her the life he thought he deserved. How stressful it'd been for her friends to constantly be there for her.

Niyota vowed that when she found a way out of this mess and reclaimed her life and she would, someday-she would not make that mistake again. She would let the people in her life, especially her father and closest friends, how much she was grateful for them being there for her. How thankful she was for their love and loyalty.

The guard urged her on. "Get going."

Instantly snapped back to reality at the nightstick pressed into the middle of her back, adding a little more force than was necessary. Guard 2 was back to his old ways. Wincing at the pain radiating down her back, the stick pressing into the gruesome bruises on her side, Niyota sent a withering glare over her shoulder. Then looking forward again, she jogged down the few stairs and came out to stand on the main asphalt of the courtyard. The guards were fast at her heels, determined not to let their prisoner get too far from them.

Jessie-the one friend that she had actually made in this hell hole-leaning up against the side gate surrounded by a few of the other patients, instantly perked up as she came outside.

For a brief moment she thought of changing the course of her direction and head to where the girl was standing, plainly waiting for her. Though she didn't necessarily assume her to be a friend, or even an associate, having her around sure beat the hell out of being completely alone. Then Niyota remembered Guard 1's strict rules for her being able to go outside, number one rule: no conversing with the other patients. And as much as she wished for someone to feel the loneliness of her life, neither did she want to be forced back inside because she hadn't adhered to the rules. Aware that was precisely what would happen if she sought Jessie out, Niyota ignored the beckoning of the girl and continued on to the left side of the courtyard.

As she came to stand on the other side of the white line that divided the courtyard in half, she scanned around her, to see what she had to do to occupy her time. There wasn't much truthfully. One bench was set up in the corner. A basketball rolled along the asphalt. That was about all there was. Muttering a few choice words under her breath, Niyota wondered if the hospital's plan was to bore her to death. It sure seemed that way. While the others had each other, an array of balls and even a few exercise machines to fill up their time, she'd barely gotten the leftovers. Too bruised and sore to be using the weight bench today-maybe tomorrow-Niyota jogged across the courtyard and snatched up the basketball. Spinning it around in her hand, pleased to see that it was solid and firm and had good balance to her, she jogged around the asphalt, shooting hoops.

"I don't think so," Sam the guard said.

"I want to talk to my friend," a girl said. Jessie.

The guard remained immovable. "You damn well know the rules, Jessie. Probably better than anyone else here. No associating with the patients in isolation. Now you best get out of here, before you find yourself in trouble." When Niyota stopped and turned around to see what all the commotion could be about; it was just in time to witness what happened next. Jessie stared between the two guards blocking her path, obviously not pleased to be denied. Then in the next moment a leg came up to knee Sam right in the balls and as he went down screaming in pain she snatched the nightstick out of his hands. Striking his partner across the side of the face with it, he went down to the ground nose bleeding and turned her attention to the withering man. Niyota's eyes widened in disbelief as she watched Jessie striking him again and again, show no remorse for the brutal beating she was giving him.

Now she understood what Paul-the guard at the cafeteria-had meant when he had tried warning her away from befriending Jessie. She had to admit, the man was right. She was quite dangerous. Not only by her ability to take out the two guards, on her out and without batting a single eye, but the total lack of emotion as she did it. No remorse or guilt for her actions. There was no telling what Jessie was capable of doing when she was really pissed off and it was more important than talking to a girl she barely knew.

Jessie was carted away by three guards.

When outside time came to a close she was escorted back inside by the guards and taken downstairs to isolation, she was locked back inside of her cell. As the doors clicked closed behind her, she dropped to the edge of the cot mattress, now wondering what she was going to do to keep herself occupied. First she tried sleep. Niyota managed to get a whole thirty minutes of sleep, before she was awake again and too on edge to remain seated, began pacing the floor of her cell. A nurse came to give her meds, but was soon gone. With no other patients in the cells around her as far as she was aware of anyway-she was all alone, only wandering thoughts to keep her company.

She resorted to working out to keep her mind focused. A past hobby of hers. Using a low hanging pipe in the ceiling that was sturdy enough to support her weight, she wrapped fingers around it and did pull-ups. When it proved that she had lost her usual upper body strength, probably due to her extended captivity, Niyota dropped to the cement floor. Exchanged between push-ups and sit-ups. Pushing her body until her lungs hurt and arms and legs ached in pain, she climbed into bed and too exhausted she immediately crashed out.

She had dinner in her cell. Alone.

That soon became routine.