I remember when I moved into this house. I was always so frightened of the spirits that lived here. But I'm not anymore.

The air is always cold. The dark and shadows are always here. I'm scared of what the darkness holds. But...not anymore.

Sometimes they play with me. The children that live here. Always younger, never older. They never age.

I don't remember or know their names, and neither do they. It was so long ago and they were abandoned at a horrible place.

The orphanage was here. The orphanage where no names were spoken. Numbers were placed instead.

I know them all. All up to Six-hundred and fifty-three. But non of them understand the fat that was given to them.

Three-hundred and thirty-three knows me. I talk to her all the time. She rides on my back when I leave home. So she can always play with me.

She knows me. She always understands.