Irennia

He’s not allowed to have a door. Those were the rules of a suicide watch, and he’s already tried hurting himself twice this week. He can’t even go the bathroom without being monitored. With each new attempt, different things are removed from his room until all that remains is just a mattress with a sheet and a security camera tucked up in the corner by the door. From his bed, he watches the camera light blink red. Always on. Always watching. He imagines the light is trying to tell him something. The pattern changes periodically, but always loops back to begin again, adding a little more each time. -.- -.-- ... He rubs his burning, tired eyes, trying to memorize the pattern. It blinks at him again, mocking him. -.- .. .-.. .-.. -.-- --- ..- .-. ... . .-.. ..-. This code is longer, more menacing than the last. He looks directly at the lens, silently begging whoever was watching to at least give him a pen so he could write the pattern down. As a person on suicide