(@DirectorWall) « wasn't much that she knew...but...she knew that her mother had escape from the Asylum the night before.
...And she »
(@DirectorWall) « wasn't nearly enough to keep her sated. She needed it...she needed water and sunlight to keep her strong.
No, there »
(@DirectorWall) « lips her parched, and her skin felt like sandpaper. A small cup of water was given to her along with 'supper,' but it »
(@DirectorWall) « of it had been consumed. It wasn't as if she had much of an appetite anyway. However, she was /incredibly/ thirsty. Her »
(@DirectorWall) « the same processed 'meal' she'd been given the night before. There was no taste -- at least, no recognizable taste. None »
(@DirectorWall) « voices rang out at all hours of the day, loud and powerful. She knew that dinner time was approaching, and she'd receive »
(@DirectorWall) There wasn't much that Rose knew about this place.
She knew she wasn't alone in the corridor of windowless rooms; their »
"Birthday...hooray."
Rose looked bitterly through the glass window of her cell, staring blankly at a wall. She had no one...not today.
(I paced in my cell, barefooted smacks against the cold floor echoing off the concrete walls. I (cont) tl.gd/imm9ks