<div class="floatleft">(http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lpwmwptLVI1qd48zvo1_500.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong><strong>Kenzie Autumn</strong><br/><strong>Age:</strong>22<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Prison Cell<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Group 1<br/><hr/><br/>Alice's words, though very much close and something like comforting. Even when Alice took her hand, Kenzie was very much not in the room with them. Or rather, she was inside her own head. Her free hand moved up, stroking her temple, as she sort of gently rocked back and forth. The voices never seemed to stop. Contradicting each other, talking about the others, talking about her. She had no idea what to do. She couldn't think with all the talking in her head, and she was trying to repeat a mantra to herself.<br/><br/>'I'm not going crazy,' she thought, 'not going crazy.' She wasn't entirely sure if she was lying to herself, but her commitment to honesty hadn't really required her to think much about self-deception. She thought it better, for the moment to stay quiet, try to avoid the voices, try to banish them, and hopefully regain some internal peace and quiet. Dealing with her present situation seemed impossible anyway.<br/><br/>Kenzie looked up again only when the door opened, and the officers came for Winter. Kenzie had no idea what that meant. She looked around, looking out into the hall through the clear cell door to where a young man was being brought in. She had no words for him. She had no seen him before. Who was he, and why was he being put in there? The answers seemed to come as quickly as the question. For helping them? He hadn't been there, and he certainly hadn't been helping. So, what was his connection? A plant maybe? This thought occurred to her first. Put a snitch in with the real criminals to get information out of them. Again, staying quiet seemed like the prudent course of action, though he seemed a bit young to be put to work trying to get information from them, Kenzie wasn't about to take chances.<br/><br/>She watched the young man nonetheless, more concerned with him than the injured man in the orange jumpsuit. She was taking it upon herself to ignore even the most reasonable suggestions that the voices provided. 'Come to your own conclusions' she told herself.