I sit there in this same old room.

White everywhere.

4 walls.

1 door.

I been here for 264 days maybe more..

You only eat once a day..

Lonely..

Tired...

And there is nothing here for me to do. All I have left is this tiny notebook and a broken pen. Eh, I really hate how I am stuck in this prison for killing a little kid. It was totally an accident, I never knew that I had powers that could possibly blow this little kid up into shreds! I really never knew... I told my parents it was an accident whatever I said they actually never believe me..

I took out my notebook that is underneath my pillow as I press the pen against the rubbery paper.

I'm here sitting on this hard metal bed. Wishing there is a way I could ever get out of here... I can't.. I just can't.. Someone please take me out of here..! Someone please.. Mom.. Dad... I need you.. All this pain and suffering.. I can't handle it anymore.. I try my best, my very best to be a good boy that you both always told me. Will I ever get out..?

I lied there still caught in my own imagination, not even noticing that my hues are closing slowly falling myself into a deep, deep slumber.