Eyeless Jack X Male reader (Yellow Room)

Journal entry #1

Past?

Present?

Future?

Time seems to fall at the sound of every tic. Slowing my death by what felt like only seconds.

*Tick*

*Tick*

*Tick*

The sound of the clock made the room feal so empty. It echoed from every corner in the room. The blank walls and the room made it feel like I had no purpose. That no matter what happens or what I do... No one would hear me..... No one would see me.

My life before this room has lost all meaning. Forgetting is apart of the pain. That's what the doctors tell me. They always say they are here to help me, but if they are helping me then why am I still here? I've been her for so long I don't know how old I am. My name has always seemed to stay with me. Probably cause it's written on the door.

"M/n 023." That was my name. Everything else is just blank. Like where I came from or any childhood friends. I have never had a friend before. The only people I know are the doctors.

What's a mother? Or a father? Parents are something everyone knows about. I only know because of the doctor that comes in for weekly visits to talk. I've learned a lot about people and how life works. It's hard to believe any of it but that's how I grew up. I've lived in this room my whole life. Meals are brought in through the slot on the door. They lift and push the tray through the slot so I can grab it. They give me veegan food because that said they believe in no meat and animal harm.

A sinking feeling in chest always gets to me and makes me feel empty. Like a shell with no soul or organs. No memory. No joy
No feelings. Nothing. I just seem to go on and on in an endless world of repetition.

I sleep all night and wake up at the crack of dawn for my morning routine. A short list of things that they say takes about 4 hours. I shower but they started spraying me with the hose because after the routine I wake up covered in blood mud and sticks. I never really felt the need to ask questions. I Mean it's not my blood on me, and I never wake up with wounds so maybe they are fixing my "problem."

After that I get to spend 20 minutes in what I like to call the Ticking room. since I have this journal I write in they said they would extend my time to 2 hours. It help the days go by better and smoother.

It's a small white room with a rainbow painted that goes around on the bottom of the walls. Small puzzles and games lay around the room. Some games are based of chance some are based off creativity as well.

I never liked to play the games though. I'd keep my favorite notebooks in my room but I only wrote in them when I come to the Ticking room. The feeling of the room helps me to focus and take the time I need for my writing.
Creating characters and different types of worlds and governments or religions. It fascinates me and urges me to want to read and look into more types of fantasy.

The one that I've been working on since I started here is about a group of students who get stuck in a dark world. A world where almost no life can exist. The only things that live in that world are what they like to call grim walkers. They looked worse than they sound. There body is pure shadow. No light can pass through it. It was tall and leen. It's eyes are empty. An empty socket with a gaping hole. They reli on sound and smell.

*Beep*

*Beep*

*Beep*

That means my time in the Ticking room is up. Guess it means I'll make a check in tomorrow. Bye.

Author:

(The picture in the beginning is what your room looks like but ofc you have a bed and a toilet not very comfortable though. You have a sink but no mirror.glass is a Hazzard.)