See, this is what I think.

She takes a drag on her cigarette.

I was better than them. They knew it, too. That’s why they had to stop me. Well, they tried.

Her grin shows off the scar running across her chin. From the looks of it, it’s a wonder how the knife didn’t cut out her tongue. She sees me looking at it.

Yeah, they got the first strike in. That Al guy snuck up behind me. Tried to cut my throat but he missed. She pauses. He would have regretted it, but I … well. He doesn’t have that problem anymore, does he?

The other two never got anywhere close to doing anything. The redhead bitch ran away. She knew. And I’ve dealt with much worse in a one on one fight.

She stops suddenly, looking around at the dirty walls that used to be white … the barred window … the heavy duty lock on the door … her own thin, blue garb. Patient #0672.

Funny place, this.