Shawn's body is extremly tired. He can no longer sleep. The prison cell is cold, there are no bedsheets. He could run to Jamie now, if metal bars couldn't hold him back. For months and months after they had first thrown him in there, he screamed for days and days, trying to find some way to get out and run back to Jamie. All his cries and screeching led to two weeks daily of beatings an inch away from death. Shawn turns to look at the silouette of Jamie, etched into the wall. There is a sparkle in her eyes, that he could see even through the rough black and white sketch of her. Everytime he looks at that drawing, he sees her differently. The same feeling of love is there. He feels he doesn't have to look at that drawing that doesn't amount to her beauty to remember her smile. There is something haunting about her face now, the look in her eyes. The last way he remembered her, the pain ate his insides, slowly killing him... he wished he could be dead, maybe just to see her smile again.