He sat alone. Staring at the blank white wall. All the walls in the room were white, but Jake didn’t mind. The white blended with his mind, allowing him to think more clearer, deeper. All of this was fine. Not that Jake had anything else to do with his time, the drugs coursing through his veins made sure of that.

Not that he was a druggie or anything like that. This was court ordered. Something about him being a threat or a menace to society. Something like that. To be honest, Jake hadn’t really paid that much attention during the trial.  He could care less what the uncultivated swine thought of his ‘art.’ As for the death of that police officer, well. Jake viewed it as justified. Afterall, he was only protecting his masterpiece. Ultimately, the officer became part of his exhibit. Jake gave his life purpose.

But all good things come to an end and Jake knew that when he found himself surrounded, that this was the end for him. But the more that Jake thought about it, the more that he knew that Narrator was not done with him yet. Afterall, Jake was the Narrators servant, he was doing his masters work and Jake knew that it was the Narrators’ will that Jake get captured and sent to this four white- walled prison. Not that, this would be the end of his story. Of this, Jake was certain. This was a temporary home. One that he would leave when the opportunity presented itself, but so far none had. So, Jake played along, as he bided his time waiting to see what Narrator had in store for him next.