text: I look out the window of the truck that was bumping along the dirt road, the bulletproof glass covered with pearly drops of rain. They danced down the glass, maneuvering and merging with other drops. Despite everything, I grin, laughing as they trickle down and I trace them with my finger. As I feel the wind from the baton rushing against my ear, I stop smiling and suck in a sharp breath, the baton crashing against my skull. My face turns into a grimace, allowing them to gag me and tie me up again. Warm blood trickles down my face, wanting to be like the drops of rainwater on the window. But rainwater isn’t red and sticky and thick, and rainwater isn’t what’s dripping on my white uniform right now. I keep wondering. Why am I here? This is a prison, strong as that of Alcatraz, in which I am being held captive. I feel something else on my cheek, mingling with the blood, salty and flowing. Tears, I guess. I hear a mutter from one of the armed guards accompanying me, something like sissy. I’m not sure though. My breathing is shallow, my eyes watering and my forehead gushing blood. One guard hits me in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle, then I don’t remember the rest of the ride, seeing as it is spent unconscious in a potato sack. When I wake up, I go to rub my head before remembering the biting pain of the zip ties around my wrists and ankles. I squirm, trying to maneuver my wrists out of the binds. My hands grasp blindly for anything, *anything* that I can cut myself free with. I fiddle with a round knob on the floor, it feels like a doorknob. I scoot forward a bit, pulling upward on the handle as soon as the guards look away. I begin to fall until I’m able to find a handhold on the rock wall. I feel a sharp pain as one of the rocks scrapes on my arm, then I get an idea. I scrape my zip-tied wrists over the sharp stone, over and over again, until I feel it loosen and fall off. I grasp the wall, trying to feel for cracks in it, though not succeeding. I continue to fall, my arms scratching against the wall, bleeding. I hit the ground with a thud and a few cracks. I yelp out in pain, my teeth grinding with the impact. My eyes water. My dirt caked cheeks quickly turn to mud covered, tears slipping and sliding and making patterns through it. I pull out the messy bun the guards had called ‘prison protocol’ before they had started to laugh hysterically at the alliteration they had created, and I use the elastic to hold my hair in a braid. Despite everything, I won’t let them stop me from getting out of here. From seeing the family that I don’t remember, the one they erased from my mind, just as they had my name. They were calling me Kid or Girl, but not by a name. Then I remember. I remember it all in a burst of light that illuminates not just the tunnel, but also the black hole of my mind. I am Roselia, I don’t have a family. I crawl out of the tunnel. *I’m not that person anymore,* I decide. I’m not going to be Roselia. From now on, I’m Delilah Clarence. My sister's and her ex-boyfriend’s name. But no one needs to know that, and no one ever will. Because no one knows them. The same thing here, though. No one ever will. I mean, that’s why I was there. I killed them.