Micheal was sitting down in the middle of his cell singing the forth movement of Beethoven's ninth symphony,His eyes closes and kept singing to himself imaging the music and his head. As he stood up now waving his hands up and down thinking of the music getting louder in his head,He stopped singing for a moment looking ahead of him walking close to the cell doors.

"Che una bella mattina" He said in Italian glad that he had learned the language that he loved so much form his mafia friends, Leaning his head against the cell door trying to see if he could fit though the hole of the cell since his cell was designed for him to be blank with no windows or vents because he might escape though them.