There is no one to trust. Nothing is safe. The space feels like a cage, and it's getting smaller. I can't recall how long we've been here. For a long time, all I've seen are these walls.

Vivian keeps eating and drinking things from here. Understandable, since he needs to eat and all, but it's all drugged. Every time he ingests anything from here, it gets harder to think. It's so strong it's been affecting  me too. It's been getting worse lately, to the point where I can't even remember how long we've been here.

Given Vivian's current condition, it seems unlikely that we will survive. If they continue to administer drugs to him, he may overdose and ultimately die. Too often, they arrive at Door #3, pick up his unconscious body, and place him in an unfamiliar, blindingly white room.

He's too weak to do anything anymore. I remember, faintly, when he resisted and fought back—when they force-fed him to keep him drugged up. I miss that fire in him. He's become so easy to manipulate now. He still has some common sense, but the drugs are killing his brain... His will to think.

I don't even know what they really want. Why can't they just say it? Why do they have to hurt silently with a fake condescending smile? Calming that they care about our health and want what's best for us.

Vivian wakes up not feeling any better than before. His head throbs, making it difficult for him to remain still. Things are a bit wobbly for him. He tries to raise his head slightly, but a sudden surge of pain hits him. He decides it would be best to stay on the floor. His body twitches erratically. His right hand curls slightly as his eyes dart around, frantically searching for nothing. His head moves uncontrollably, straining against his will. Silent tears fall down his face as he suffers. He can't do his work in this state. He can't stand it. He can't think.

All he can do is cry. Cry away the pain. It's all he can do. He hopes that once he's finished crying, the pain will subside. He hopes that if he just holds his head hard enough, the pain will go away... but of course, it doesn't.

The pain stays. The pain never wavers.

The walls look yellow now, adorned with cool red squiggly lines. Blue circles float around. He looks at the once-grey carpet and sees a zebra print in multiple colors. The scene is filled with small, colorful shadowy  looking demon beings dancing and singing together. Small cat-like creatures with white eyes begin to emerge from the ground and walls.

They all play around until one of them notices Vivian staring. It moves toward him, curious. Its small, three-pawed hands lightly touch his face. His tears are still fresh as it makes contact. The pain lessens significantly. He doesn't move away—this small shadow thing is helping. He inches his head closer.

The small creature calls its friends. They gather, amazed at Vivian. Some pet him. Some sit on his back, playing with him. He remains silent, hoping for their assistance. But when he does, they scatter in fear.

Boss comes out in full rage.

She screeches at the small creatures in a language unheard, making his head want to pop. He whimpers in pain, and she immediately reaches for him, holding his head in her arms.

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Why are you crying?"

He doesn't respond. Silent tears continue to fall.

Pain is all that's felt.

There is nothing but pain.

On the bright side, I see so many pretty colors. I am overwhelmed by the abundance of colors. I think I see the sky on the ceiling. Oh, such pretty skies. He reaches his hand out. He grasps the sky with his fingers. His sky. So soft. So nice. Ripples of water dance around his fingertips as bright flowers randomly blossom.

I want to sleep on the clouds up there. Maybe their luxurious cushioning will make my head feel as if it's receiving a kiss.

Boss grows annoyed that he's ignoring her. She tries again. "What are you doing? Do you see something? Tell me what you see."

A small smile cracks on his face. He looks at his hand—it appears to be melting into strange, vibrant shapes. And yet, he doesn't feel any pain. He simply gazes at the exquisite artwork his hand is creating. He manipulates his melting hand to create a smiley face. He takes pleasure in his creation.

Boss loses it. She grabs his hand, forcing him to look at her. "WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU, ANSWER ME! DO NOT IGNORE ME!"

He closes his eyes. Then, slowly, he opens them again.

Fading in and out.

It's challenging to stay awake, even though I just woke up. I feel so tired. But I want to see all these cool things. I'm particularly intrigued by the floating eyes with wings.

They look so cool. I just want to stare at them. Maybe draw them when I feel better.

Things sort of feel better. The pain now feels like drowsiness. I prefer that over what I had before.

All I can think about is the clouds. Maybe in my dreams, I can float with them. Look down at the city, or the fields, or maybe just the mountains.

It doesn't really matter. All that matters is sleep. Maybe Dreamland will look as cool as this.

I hear a slight, muffled sound. So quiet. So small. I can't make it out.

I wonder what it means.

I can't really remember why I was crying. I feel wetness on my cheek. Did I lose something?

Did I hurt myself? Maybe I'm crying because I'm sad. I've heard people who are sad cry.

If so, what is making me sad? I don't feel sad anymore.

I guess nothing is wrong.

It's okay to sleep.

The muffled sound is getting louder. I wonder why?