They were nothing but scared children, brought up the same as those of my camp, now suddenly left alone with their own thoughts and allowed to wonder, to dread. Just scared children. Simple things raised in hell to know hell, but all still retaining that human instinct to fear that which stands unknown, just beyond the grasp of one’s knowledge, one’s perception. Whether this was by design or not I did not know, but it didn’t matter anyways. I could still see it, the fear in the eyes of them all, gently flickering, pulsating, driving their every whim, notion, action... I wasn’t sure where my disgust lied, in the others for exhibiting such pathetic weakness, or in the higher-ups for cultivating as much in children. It was easier to abominate my peers, I soon found, and did so with tenacity... No suffering among them could I see as undeserved. No punishment dealt could I perceive to be too harsh. No hostility on the part of the officers could I recognize as anything but the result of some righteous indignation, the likes of which lowly creatures such as I could never hope to understand. I held such attitudes firm, however fabricated they were. I had to. If I sided with the officers, all was according to plan. All was fine. If I sided with my peers, all was futile. All was hell.