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Published by Jonathan Shuffler

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Published by: Jonathan Shuffler on Jan 21, 2013
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06/01/2013

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Everything is cold and dry.

Beads of cool sweat drip down my face as my cracked hands rub against each other. A surge of heat burns across my forehead and more sweat pours down, then the sudden chill reminds me where I really am. Sometimes I try lying there, looking up at the ceiling, imagining there is a giant orb of bright light and heat shining down on me. But when I open my eyes, all I see is the light casting a lazy beam of light down on me, not caring at all about my current condition. But what is my condition? I was never told, just locked up in this greyish brown room. My body shivers again, and my hairs seem to rise on their ends, trying their best to leave my miserable excuse for a body. It's almost as if my hairs want to pluck themselves away from my skin hoping that the ground will sustain them better than I will. I admit that the thought's more than a little depressing, but how can anyone hope to be optimistic in my situation? Of course I feel that false sense of laughter, hoping that I'll wake up and this will be some ridiculous nightmare that I can tell my friends when I go to school. Then again, the terms "friend" and "school" are foreign to me. The only vocabulary I'm familiar with are "tests" and "isolation". That's all I hear. Apparently I have some kind of convoluted immune system that has allowed me to be this way. I didn't even notice until I was in my room one evening. A bright light shone through my window while I was sleeping, and I woke up to a noise that sounded like nothing I've heard before or since. It was almost like a mother talking to their child, but I knew it wasn't. My mom was across the hall in the other room, not outside my window. But after that night, I realized that I was not the same. Its like being hot and cold at the same time. Waves of heat pass through my body and then I freeze again, chilling like I am now. My body trembles for a short while and then my skin vibrates like a soft, harmless spasm. Something is going on inside me, they can tell, and so can I. It may seem like I am in isolation in this small, windowless room. But I can tell you one thing that I know for sure. I am definitely not alone...

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