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I am caged. Four concrete walls surround me. The same walls I have known for half my life. No doors. No windows. My own little prison. Designed to keep me in, and everything else out. I have done wrong. I do belong here. I don't know how long I've been here for, I just know that I hardly sleep. I can tell I'm older, years older, I'm bigger, my hair reaches down to the ground, knotted and ugly. Sometimes I wonder what I look like, am I beautiful? Pretty? But the lust fades fast as I realise there's no point in wondering. I will never see the daylight again. I will never have the grass between my toes again. But I belong here. All I have is my memories, the times before here - the times before now.

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