This was beginning to grow irritating. The endless boredom that comes from being contained in his small 'slice of heaven' was manageable with the few meager possessions he was allowed. Hell, even only having a small group of guards as his main source of human interaction didn't faze him. But every time his doctors forgot about him for more than three meals, the awareness came back. The pain of knowing that he was shackled by other people, no control over his life. And that, for him, was the worst possible torture they could inflict on his psyche.
EZ knew that the food they gave him was laced with mood stabilizers, he had used them a couple times to try to maintain a level head. He knew that by eating the meals, it would send his mind into that dark where time seems not to matter. It was the only way they could control him. It was also the only way for him to escape the knowledge of his captivity.
Sitting down on the cold floor and leaning back against the door, EZ began to rap his hand against the wall. How long has it been since his mind was this clear? Six or seven months? It was just a matter of time before all the meds would be cleared from his systems and his mind would fully rouse from this cloud of darkness.
"Just bring me my food," he whispered as the knocking of his hand against the wall began to intensify. EZ could feel it stirring just underneath the surface. The rage, the aggression. He was beginning to slip into it. It felt wrong but at the same time felt oh so right. If he allowed it, the anger would wrap around him and become a comfort. A weapon against what ever was in his way.
Raising to his feet and turning towards the door, EZ began to slowly punch the door. It was just underneath the surface now, pushing to be let out. The more it pushed against the forced boundaries set by his doctors, the more EZ frantically attacked the door. Not wanting to call down unwanted attention, EZ stopped his attack against the inanimate object and walked over to his sorry excuse of a bed. Sitting down, he began to chuckle lightly to himself, having no other way of expressing the pain.
With a shaky measure of control over his anger and his mind nearly cleared from the drugs, EZ was finally beginning to feel like his normal self. "I can't do this anymore. I need to get out."