The shackles grazed against my wrists as I changed positions in a vain attempt to get comfortable. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. I sometimes forget who I am, where I am, why I’m here, and what led up to this moment. I try to remember well, but I feel as if I’ve lived in so many nightmares, I don’t know which to believe. Every time I fall asleep my dreams are filled with nightmares, where I can finally hear and see clearly, but the only thing I hear are the screams, the gun fire, and that hum that makes all the prisoners shriek. I might not hear them, but I feel their cries. I myself have found myself withering in pain when they crank up the sound-wave. The guards come and leave, I don’t know them. I don’t care either, to them I am merely a number.
15341.
I won’t eat the toxic's t
