Two wake periods later, life has returned to torture as usual, but at least that purple-skinned asshole didn't come back to make good on his promise.

Apparently the Asmodei have decided to put a lid on whatever happened. A really tight lid, if even the gossip masters don't have anything but vague guesses.

The only thing that all rumors have in common is, that it supposedly caused an uproar all over the ship.

Controls also have gotten more strict.
Each time we go into the garden and before we go back to our quarters, we get scanned for dangerous materials.

They also sent a maintenance crew to repair the cameras inside the block.
Not like that will do them any good, we'll just break them again, just like we always have, for generations now.
Can't have them take away our last bit of personal freedom after all.

After an exhausting double shift I'm just about ready to drop, but the Asmodean in charge insists that I take a shower before heading back.

Something about 'being a health hazard and an olfactory offense' or something...whatever 'olfactory offense' is supposed to mean.
I swear, it's just another little thing to make us miserable.
The water is cold, the soap is a joke and we don't even get fresh clothes to change into, so what's the point in taking a shower in the first place?

Still, I've picked enough fights with them for a while, so I comply, go through the procedure and finally head back to the block, just in time to meet up with the next shift coming out.

I catch a glimpse of Eva, as she is chatting happily with Robert, the son of the block elder and designated block leader once his father's time comes.

I feel my stomach clench up as I see her laugh, but she doesn't even seem to notice me, just like usual.

Robert on the other hand notices me looking and shoots me a glare that seems to say, 'Back off, that's my girl.'
Mom always says to pick my battles wisely, because I cannot win them all.
As if I'm always the one starting fights. Sometimes the fights just pick me!

Back in the block, I immediately head over to the sleeping compartment, where the beds are located, grouped in stacks of 5 each and make a beeline for the quartermaster on duty.

I'm in luck, currently it's Sam's turn, a good friend of mine and not exactly the most strict when it comes to the priority system.

"Hi Sam, got a bed left for me?"
Sam eyes me and replies, "Wow...you look like crap, Sirus."
"I feel like crap...please tell me I won't be sleeping on the floor today..."
"Let me think...500 beds in total, 324 currently occupied by the sick, expecting and elderly, 150 occupied by the ladies...many of which wouldn't mind the company, if I may add."
"Stuff it Sam, I'm too tired for your jokes."
"No, I'm serious. The way you stood up to them certainly impressed some of the ladies...sadly not the one you are pining for, I'm afraid."

I roll my eyes and think, 'Whoever said that women were bad gossips clearly never met Sam. This guy beats them all hands down.'

"Sam, just...an answer please. Are there any free beds?"
Sam keeps me hanging for a few seconds longer and finally says, "Just pulling your leg, old pal, when did I ever not have a bed for you?"
I raise an eyebrow, unsure whether he's cracking a joke or not.
But then again, even though he has quite some leeway when it comes to distribution, he still has to abide to the rules, otherwise he'd be stuck with manual labor like the rest of us in no time.

"Alright, you've got number 264. Isn't that a funny coincidence?"
"Yeah, well, you can't see it, but I'm just about to burst from laughing..." I reply, obviously not in the mood for laughing at all.
"Feh, be that way. Here's your plate, you've got 6 hours until Marvin kicks you out again, so sleep well."

I grab the plate with the number '264' printed on it and head over to the deadbeat quintuple stacks of beds, trying to find my number among the arms length aisles and finally find it in the second to top bunk.

I climb up the creaking ladder and let myself drop on the moldy mattress, welcoming the stale smell of the thin sheets.

Sure beats sleeping on the cold, hard floor where you hear every single footstep in the entire block at the very least.

It's true what they say.

There is no place quite like home.