She finds herself staring at the ceiling of her cramped, white room. She hates white. Oddly enough she finds herself staring often. Even more strange, she called this ugly white room home. Maybe because she doesn't have a real home anymore. I hate staring at this ugly color! it makes me sick! With that thought she lazily throws herself out of bed and heads for the door. Where am i going to go? Its not like she could walk down to the kitchen and get herself a nice cold slice of pizza. The kitchen closed at ten o' clock. its not like she could go to the forest and run around. There is a fence around the entire perimeter. Like a caged animal. Thats all we are. Animals. Glumly she forces herself to crawl back into bed, after all, there was nothing better to do. "Hmmmm, three o' clock. Another four hours of aimless staring. Fun." she says out loud, hoping some miracle would save her from this torture.