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I looked over at the dark, wooden cupboard that was filling the back right corner of the big, dusty room. Stocked with its nasty content it made a revolting feeling spread out deep down. I knew that I would never have to swallow them anymore, but the memories I had of this place would haunt me for the rest of my life. My fists were clenched and my sweaty robe stuck to my body, feeling like a tight suit depriving me of the air I was supposed to be breathing. I wanted to rip it off, but my hands were stuck in the position they were in. My body didn’t move. Only the room was circling around me, making it hard to stand it in there any longer. I saw the rusty, creaky bed with its uncomfortable, yellowed sheets. I hated them. I hated everything about this place. It was gloomy and too ostentatious for what it was. The high ceilings had cracks all over and I was certain that the house was short before crumbling.

It was silent. I was only able to hear the dripping of the nearby sink and the buzzing of the neon illumination stuck to the left side of it. What a peculiar place to mount a lamp. The icy wind came blowing through the stain glass window, making out the left side of the room. My wet body froze; an icicle was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. I could see my face in the mirror above the sink. A skinny, gaunt face with bloodshot, green eyes and pale skin. Was that really still me? I couldn’t recall the way I had looked before I was brought to this place, but I was certain that that was not how I had been before. This is what they had made me become. My teeth were clenched and my back hunched. Who are you?  What are you?

Drip, drip, drip.

The monotonous sound coming from the sink caught my attention. I could have left, just like the water leaving the tap, but a force I couldn’t make out made it unable for me to leave this place. The door was just behind me, but my feet were hooked to the cold, stone floor. Where would I go? Where could I go? I didn’t have anything, let alone anyone, left to go to. They were all gone. I was the only relict.

I closed my eyes and remembered the day I had arrived. My dark brown shoes were clacking on the floor; my woollen midi-skirt was swinging at the pace of my walking. We passed many locked doors. And I heard many relentless, agonizing sounds trying to escape from behind them. What would they do to me? Would I have to suffer? The answer was displayed in the mirror across. I was gone.

You are going to catch a cold, was the parental voice echoing inside of my head, but that was the least of my worries. I was already dead. They took my identity, stole my dignity and destroyed my soul. There was nothing left of me apart from that revolting cover the mirror presented in buzzing, neon-yellow light.

Drip, drip, drip.

I reminisced about the look on the child’s face I had gotten a glimpse of one day. The door stood open and I saw its vulnerable and bony body sitting at the edge of the miserable looking barrow. What had they done to her? The needle that was stuck in her arm had left a blue and purple mark. I wanted to help her, but I knew I couldn’t. Nobody could. Death was her only friend now. What had they done to her? Were they doing that to everyone here? Would they be doing that to me? My arms were my witnesses.

I looked upon my body. My veins came pushing forward and made me realise that there was still blood running through. My heart was still pounding. You shouldn’t give up now. But why not? Hadn’t that been their plan? Shouldn’t I just end it for them? No, that would be too easy. And after all, I had survived until now. There couldn’t possibly be anything worse to come. I had already made it through hell. I should have felt lucky, but look at me now. I had become a scarecrow. A proof of the past. If I were to leave, I would only have to answer questions; questions I didn’t want to think of. The pain I had suffered and endured was enough for me. There was nothing more I wanted than peace. But there was no peace out there. I knew that now.

Drip, drip, drip.

So there I remained; looking at the cupboard in the grey room. Pretending it hadn’t all been over.