The Light

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Everyday at 10:00pm the light shuts off. Everyday at 6:00am they come back on to reveal a metal tray on the bed stand with water, bread, and some sort of tasteless soup.

I managed to find two things in the room: an empty notebook and a book on sign language.

I spend my time either learning to sign or scrawling in this small notebook of the deductions I've made.

I felt like I needed some sort of identity, so I named myself. I am John, as in John Doe. Or JD to friends.... I don't know. There's no one to call me that, so it seems a bit redundant.

I like to pretend I have a family somewhere who misses me, even if I can't miss them. Maybe I have a dad and a mum who are crying for my return. Probably not. But I'm allowed to hope right?

My entire body is covered in scars of all sorts. Burn scars, cut scars, and a lot of mysterious scars that I am honestly curious on how they were inflicted.

I keep a record of the days past through marks upon the wall. I'm at 7 currently.

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