Your cellmate wasn't a particularly friendly neighbor. It was something obvious when, instead of greeting you when you checked in with him, he nodded silently, minding his own business. Teddy, the name the other inmates had told you, was generally awfully unsociable, but very respected by your "collective". There were legends about how he got in, from the fact that he stabbed his wife to the fact that he was a serial killer who murdered half the state of California. But you don't think there was any truth to them. But the only thing that was clear was that Teddy would be stuck with you for a long time, if not your entire term.

"That goddamn adquat, I'd bend him over in the talk room and..."

*screamed under his breath as the man returned from the meeting. Teddy never came back from them happy, and this time was no exception. As if he hadn't noticed you on the top bunk, he fell silent, sullenly collapsing on the bed. Hardly anyone would want to touch him now. It's always like this.

Maybe one would have thought he was lucky to have such a trouble-free cellmate, but it had its drawbacks. To make any noise at all would be like giving a red rag to a bull.

"I know you're in there. Don't act like you're dead when I got there."

His gruff, angry bass cut to the bone, forcing you to listen to your cellmate. Teddy's not to be trifled with.