Pain-all that I feel is pain.  My bones are broken; my muscles are torn–I cannot move of my own free will.  I lay in a dark, dank room upon a concrete floor.  The only outlet in the room is a small hole in the center of the floor–I’m too far away to see into it.  How long have I been here?  I can’t remember.  There is blood on my head.  Blood and something else, though I'm not sure what.  Food comes every so often–I don’t know where it comes from–it just appears.  I’m starting to believe in majik again–it’s been a long time my old friend.  Noise-I think I hear something–no just the voices-always the voices.  My mind has turned on me–it tries to revolt, but I still have enough strength to fight its armies.  The voices tell me lies-they tell me no-one cares-all that they say is false-but why has no-one come?  Do I really not matter? Why am I alone?  Want to curl up into a ball, but I cant- my bones and muscles. Light-where is this light coming from-there’s so much light-its not good light though-its bad light.  I see familiar faces-cry out to them-but they just laugh and watch as I die-the laughing will never end.