Chase lay back on the thread bare bed he'd had for the past twelve years. He'd forgotten that beds were usually comfortable, and had blankets that actually did something to keep one warm on cold nights. He stared at the ceiling, imagining that he was actually looking down from the sky, and all the little divots in the stone above him were giant mountain ranges. If he were really looking down on colossal mountains and thinking them small, would that make him a god? Following his odd trains of thought helped to keep him from getting bored. As long as he wasn't bored, he could stand to be well behaved. Chase really didn't like it when they brought out the needles. The needles made him go to sleep and he hated the disoriented feeling he would get after he woke up.<br/><br/>There were no windows in his cell. He had no way to tell what time of day it was, what season it was, or what was happening in the outside world. He got a slight peek however, when he heard a blood curdling cry from somewhere else in the building. Someone had just been numbered, a boy. Chase smiled; receiving new inmates was the only way he could be sure the world outside the asylum was still spinning, that it hadn't just frozen, that time was still moving forward. Chase wondered what number the new arrival had been branded by. He looked down at his own forearm, tracing the letters with his fingers: C21. He'd worked out in his head what the letters and numbers meant from his own branding and the others he'd seen. The letter was when in their life the person had been admitted: I for infant, C for child, J for juvenile, A for adult, S for senior. From that, he assumed that he must have been only the twenty first child admitted into this place. He'd seen only one infant admitted, because their mother had been admitted when she was pregnant. For some reason, they kept the baby as well.<br/><br/>Chase wondered if maybe they ran experiments on the baby. He had been experimented on, examined, most everyone here had or will be. It wouldn't be fair if the baby didn't have to. Why should they get special treatment? Chase sighed, even with the pleasure that comes with a new arrival, that didn't change that his cell was cold and sometimes damp... and that he was getting bored. He hoped they'd serve breakfast soon, so he'd at least have something to do. At least in this place, you almost always got three meals a day, unless they were doing a special experiment on you or something.