Orren was quite happy with his home at the hospital. Many of the orderlies were so nice to him, and a few even came to talk to him daily. He'd never really known what it was like to be smiled at and talked with. Most people outside the hospital avoided him, and his father had never been in the mood for his nonsense. Orren didn't like to think about his poor, dear father. Unfortunately, he did so just about every day. 100 liked to tell him that his father's suicide was partially his fault. That only upset the young man more.
100 didn't like the hospital. He said that if the orderlies liked him so much, they would have let him out of his cell by now. They wouldn't have him jailed up. He didn't hesitate to tell Orren what he called the truth. The smiles on the nurse's faces were fake. They all hated him, every last one. He should kill them all. But Orren did his best not to listen. Sometimes he could tone 100 out by humming.
The black haired man sat in his cell, his back facing the bars. He hummed happily to himself as he painted colorful pictures on a brand new canvas. There was a blue cat, a tree that grew windows, and a cloud made of purple fur floating in the sky. His painting never made much sense, but they were sure fun to make! As he worked, one of the orderlies came up to his cell.
"Is that for me?" She asked cheerfully, a smile on her face. Orren turned to look at her before breaking out his own giddy grin.
"Yeah!" He said, grabbing the canvas and tearing it off to bring it to her. "I worked on it all night."
"Well, it's beautiful." The nurse chuckled as she took the canvas and rolled it up. Orren seemed quite pleased to hear that. He grinned from ear to ear and waved happily as the nurse went off to finish whatever it was she was doing.