Karma Smith never felt like he was the same as his father.
He used to think that was a bad thing.
Karma thought that he needed to be exactly like his father. Strong, brash, violent, mean. But that wasn't who Karma was, or who he wanted to be.
And...
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Chapter Six: Bonding Written By Indigo ___________________
Karma Smith: Monday, 7:45 AM
The cell was still cold by the time Karma woke up. As he looked outside, he decided it couldn't have been any later than eight. His point was proven when he looked in the corner and saw Rosita sharpening her knife. It was a different one than last time.
Karma gave her a lazy smile, a smile that she returned gently. The two did not say anything to each other as the young boy leaned over and grabbed the plate sitting on the concrete in front of him. It contained several slices of apples and some vegetables.
The food the Alexandria s had been giving Karma wasn't necessarily enough to keep the boy full, but it was just enough to keep his energy up and stop his stomach from yelling at him. Karma finished the food quickly, leaning back against the concrete wall.
Rosita no longer kept a close eye on the boy. She would come into his cell, do some small tasks, and then leave around noon. The two never made any kind of distinct conversation with one another, but it was clear the other didn't hate him as much. So karma isn't surprised when Rosita brushes him off when he tries to talk to her,
"What's your favorite color?" The scraping stops, but the woman doesn't look up. There's a beat before she brings the knife back to the sharpener. "Come on man, that knifes gotta is sharp enough by now. Humor me," Karma entertains, tilting his head to the side, dark curls falling with it.
Rosita huffs, stopping the blade once again,
"Red." She says simply, continuing to drag the blade. Karma hums to let her know he heard her, though he doubts she cares.
"Mines black," Karma says, a smirk spreading across his lips. "In case you couldn't tell" He adds, gesturing to his outfit, which now consisted of the black sweater he had put back on. Rosita shakes her head,
"Shocker," She amuses. Karma frowns. He moves from the cot in the corner, to the area right in front of the Latina. Rosita raises an eyebrow at the boy,
"Who's the coolest person in this place?" Karma asks. Rosita scoffs, "Aside from you, of course," He teases. A slight smile spreads across the others face, though, considering how dark it is, and that Rosita is still looking down, Karma might be seeing things. She set her items down on the ground beside her, finally giving in to the teen's attempts at a conversation.
"I'd say, Tara," Rosita says, bringing her knees up to her chest, her leathered hands folded in her lap. "She's the one who tried to convince him she made the bullets instead of me" She adds, picking at her cuticles. Karma nods and leans against the same wall Rosita is, the only thing separating the two is the metal gate.
