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Day 2 (My other blog post could be day 1, even though they are so much further apart )

I stare at my chains. The are starting to weigh heavily on me. I don't know what's going on. This whole place around me is so cold. I cannot help but wonder how I'm going to live on much longer.

I look at the technician behind the glass, staring back at me, those eyes couldn't look any colder. I wonder if he's thinking that I should just die. I want to. I really do. I just can't take the pain much longer.

His gaze passes to the papers in front of him. He doesn't seem to care. He seems only like he cares for himself instead. Then I look at my body. It is riddled with experimentation (torture for the most part). This is aggravating beyond comprehension.

Then I stare at a figure just to the right of the technician. He is kindhearted, and his smile fills the space that has been sucked dry by pain. He is calm, and gives me some sort of energy to carry on. He is there to be a peacemaker in times of war. He's caring, unlike the technician who looks at his papers so vigorously, that I feel his emotions have been influenced far more by the papers than they have from me.

I try to endure, and I know I can, because this figure standing by him has made me happy.