The walls are made of plaster, the floors are made of wood, my heart is made of glass, and my soul is made of screams. I've been here so long I don't know who I am any longer, I can't remember what hour it is, or what day, or even what year. I haven't seen the sun since I was put here, I haven't talked to another person, or done anything besides slowly go crazy. When will I ever leave?All Rights Reserved