The marks on the wall show slashes. No, I'm not crazy. They show how many years I've been here. I stopped after a while. Than started again. After so many decades your only enjoyment is the few visits from the outside world, and the satisfaction of scraping another line into the stone wall. Though at the same time you feel a heart-breaking sadness. It's been another 356 days. 52 weeks. But than you remember- and the releif you don't have to pretend anymore makes you feel better. You don't have to blend in among humans, or try that is. You- I-am cursed to live forever. In this prison.
((I tried.. sweatdrop ))
((I tried.. sweatdrop ))
