Prologue
Let's start at the beginning.
I live in a box.
No, not a cardboard box.
A white, giant cube.
Yes, It has a door.
It has windows.
Inside its completely white. The walls are covered in white, soft material.
I'm completely alone in here.
There are only three small rooms in here. Nothing major.
The first room is the living and bedroom area. There's a small t.v in the corner. No good channels are on it. There is a bed, a table, and a chair. On the back wall there is a phone. Only for emergencies though. Then again, the only number it lets you dial is the person who takes care of me.
The next room is the kitchen. It's very outdated and only has the basics; two glass plates, two cups, two bowls, two sets of silverware (knife, fork, and spoon), napkins, salt, pepper, a small pantry, a fridge, an oven, and a microwave. Not much as you can see. I get new food every two weeks. I'm not any where near starved.
The other room is just the bathroom. No need for detail. I also get my personal stuff every two weeks.
So why am I in this box?
It started when I was only 10....
