I sit still looking out the view port into the recesses of deep space. My thoughts storming my mind.

The white room contains my bed, and small half partitioned bathroom.

This white room is my cell.

I hear the neighbor through the walls screaming as he receives his “correction.”

Not long till they come in here.

They feel the need to “correct” anyone who possesses the ability to think against the flawed government of today.

I hear the low beep and then the noise of the door sliding open, yet I don’t turn around.

“Mr.Rogers, are you ready for your correcting?” they ask like an old friend.

“You know I have no choice in the matter.” I reply holding my stare.

He chuckles and gets the small vile of liquid.

The other man seizes my face and squeezes my cheeks while the other pours the liquid in my mouth.

As my body turn against itself with the influence of the liquid. I simply say.

“You can’t contain me.” As I suddenly stab and inject the guards with a dose of cyanide.

I now just stare ahead and grin.