I'll wait until he delivers my next meal. The plan is simple. Too simple, maybe, but it's all I've got.
I sat behind the door, blanket in hand, ready to throw it over his head. I'd already done a few test tosses. He's taller than me, so I had to get the angle just right. The blade, that jagged piece of porcelain wrapped in tissue, was tucked into the belt of my skirt. Crude, but sharp. Lethal, if I was lucky. Everything was ready.
Now, I wait.
I don't know how long passed. My legs ached from crouching, but I didn't dare move. Then, footsteps. Heavy. Familiar.
It was him.
My heart pounded so hard I thought he'd hear it through the door. I crouched lower, adrenaline racing through my veins. The lock clicked.
The door swung open.
I let him take two full steps in, just enough to clear the frame, then bam. I sprang like an animal, flinging the blanket over his head. The second it landed, I pressed the blade to his back.
"Don't move," I warned, voice trembling. "Or I'll run you through."
Silence.
He didn't move, not out of fear, but indifference. I could feel it. A coldness radiated from him, like standing in the shadow of something inhuman. Somehow, even with the weapon, I felt like the one in danger.
"You're an idiot," he said flatly. His voice was like ice.
He didn't struggle. Didn't panic. Just reached up, slow and deliberate, and peeled the blanket off his head. When his eyes met mine, I froze. That stare cut through me. He glanced down at my hands, shaking, white-knuckled around the makeshift blade.
He turned his back to me.
Walked to the table.
Set the new tray down, picked up the old one, completely unfazed.
I couldn't let him just leave. I lunged, stepping into his path and raising the blade.
"Give me the keys. Now!"
He stopped. Looked at me again, that same hollow, soul-draining stare. Without a word, he reached out, grabbed the blade. With his bare hand.
Blood trickled down his fingers. He didn't flinch. I let go, terrified.
He held the weapon between us and said quietly, "Sharp things aren't safe. Don't play with them."
Then he stepped around me and walked out. Just like that. As if I were a child throwing a tantrum. As if I'd never been a threat at all.
The moment the door shut behind him, my knees gave out. I dropped to the floor, trembling. I'd never tried to hurt someone before. I thought I could. I wanted to. But now?
I curled into myself on the cold tile. I couldn't stop shaking.
And eventually… I slept.