The Tale of Jad Omega

April 2nd. 8:42pm. It's time to get up. It is time for work.

My eyes cracked open just as I watched the last few strands of light dissapear from a far away window. The shining beams of the moon soon began to bask the city in a beauty of which I loved more and more each night. Lights of the moon creeped into my room and illuminated my various items hidden throughout my room. With this light, I felt relaxed, I felt at home.

There was a knock at my door. The sound of China plates. Footsteps walking away. That was breakfast.

I opened my door to my usual breakfast. Two muffins, steaming fresh from the oven, coffee black as the night with extra sugar, and an apple, red as blood. Throwing away the muffins and apple, I sat up on my bed and sipped my coffee to my own pace. I've never been a person to eat breakfast. I'm more of a..."Snack all day and then eat as much as I can during dinner" kind of person. I set my coffee aside and walked over to grab my work uniform. The outfit is simple. A black t-shirt with grey stripes going vertically from top to bottom. It's supposed to indicate that you are now located in a prison. A reference to the grey bars that you'll be staring at for the rest of your life. I threw on the shirt just for company respect then began to put on my own uniform.

A black long sleeved shirt made of silk covered my upper torso. Built into the shirt was a hood that went over my head just enough to cover my eyes. The shirt went down past my waist and was tucked into my pants. The pants were baggy, but around the lower calf became wrapped in a gauze-like material and then tucked into my shoes. Around my waist wrapped a black piece of leather. It was not used as a belt, but I liked it better as a cosmetic piece that seemed to add effect. I put on my leather gauntlets that covered my lower arms and every part of my hands but the tips of my fingers. These gauntlets had been with me since I started working here and I feel as if I would be completely unable to function without them. Looking over to my left, hanging on my wall was my mask. I was gifted the mask with my promotion. It looks like a bird mask. White as bone with big black circles as the eyes. The nose extended out of the mask and curved down slightly. There layed no spot for a mouth. I rarely ever wore it as I had the intense feeling that if I cloaked myself even more, I would lose my own sanity and wake up with myself as my own patient in the Asylum.