A light scratching echoed through the room as Ian eroded lines into the wall before him with the brass foot of his cane. This line was one of about ninety, one per day incarcerated. Some were arranged in a typical tally-mark orientation, others in facsimiles of religious icons, and others still in simple geometric patterns. This was wholly unnecessary, as he still kept a small journal, but he felt the marks added to the ambiance of the room, giving it a feeling of a mad prisoner's domicile. This was far from the truth, however. He was quite mentally well and generally accepting of his predicament. He still had time to write if he felt moved, as well as the privacy to contemplate in peace. It was a state of contentment, nothing more or less. 

Ian reflected for a time, as he had become prone to do in his solitude, about the "why" of it all. Not in a mournful sense, but in an inquisitive one. He hadn't much idea who was really in control of him, why he possessed the unique ability that he did, or what he was, if indeed a "Freak" was not human. As he contemplated this, he faced another wall, positioned his cane, and resumed scratching. After a short time, the wall before him bore a small, unassuming "Why?" He gouged a circle around this, and sat facing it for however long. He remembered some Buddhist principle about the idea of emptiness, that nothing truly is because of its impermanence, or something. Ian thought it a bit esoteric, but good food for thought nonetheless. 

A voice summoned him to the yard, a rather rude one at that, but one he had grown accustomed to. He tarried for a moment, however, to gather his thoughts and mentally brace himself for the worst. Any surprise might send his heart racing and its bearer into shock, even with medication graciously provided by the hospital. Finally rising, he brushed himself off, seized his cane, and made for the door, greeting the guard who subsequently shackled him. The guards hadn't been awful, though they were a bit brusque for his tastes. An occasional prod from a gun barrel, various incendiary language, and arrogance were all par for the course. However, such was life.