I am exhausted. There is slobber all over my face and the floor. I can barely move my head. My ears perk at "prison tat." I have no idea what that means. I see Louise hand Charlie ink pens. This is not good. I know that people in jail get tattoos and there is not a tattoo machine, but I don't know how. The light shines off the blade of the knife.

Charlie stands over me with the knife and the pens. I can tell he is thinking. He pushes his boot onto my ass, first one cheek then the other.