Two more weeks before you're released.

The next two weeks are torturous. You feel awful, you're sick, and in pain. You count off the days with scratches in the mirror, since the guard bots don't seem to care about whatever you do in here. The knowledge that something is growing inside you, and the limited time you have to deal with it is ticking away with every day, makes it even worse.{if PrisonRape =True} Added to that, the inmate you're sharing the jail with keeps fucking you, every evening, like clockwork. You've almost stopped caring about that, after your recent realisation. Though you'd still kill him in a heartbeat, given the chance.{endif}

On the morning of your fifty-fifth day, a day before you expected to be released, you receive a visit from Lieutenant Dawson. He just walks into your cell without knocking to the sight of you sleeping face-down on the bad, half dressed. You wake at the intrusion, rolling over and sitting up, staring at him with groggy, but still hateful eyes. You notice him looking at your bare chest. You don't care.

"What do you want."

You're surprised at how raw your voice sounds. You haven't spoken to anybody in weeks.

"Time's up. The guards will let you out in an hour. Be ready."

He throws a chip down to the floor next to you, and turns to leave.

You watch him go before you pick it up. It has "J-EP" written on the side. You scowl at it.

Over the next hour you dress yourself to the best of your ability, and try to make yourself look less awful. While you're trying to style your hair back into something like it was before you were imprisoned, one of the guards opens the door, and speaks to you in a mechanical voice.

"You are free to go. We hope you enjoyed your stay."

You're escorted out of the basement, through the towers reception, and out to the streets of Junkton. The bright light of the sun hurts your eyes. But you're finally free.