I can feel wings again, just like last time I had a fit.

Those doctors came in and gave me another injection and turned on the computer, so I’m allowed to write until I pass out again. Don’t they sound like nice people? They shot the injection through the slat in my door and it hit me in the shoulder, so I don’t have much time before I go under.

I can feel wings again, and it’s so real I’m afraid. I haven’t looked behind me since the first time, so for all I know they’re really there. I can also hear singing in the walls, but it might be screaming. Is it one of the other patients, or is it just my own delusions? How will I ever know? By looking behind me for wings that I can FEEL but can’t possibly BE. If I look back and there aren’t any wings, then I really am insane. But if there are, then I’ve been right all along.

I used to have these dreams, almost every night, where the doctors cut me open and took me apart, rearranged everything and changed me into something else. What if they weren’t dreams? I haven’t had one since I started feeling wings and hearing song-scream from the next room, or the walls, or whatever it is.

If these people have the power to decide whether or not I sleep, then what’s to say they can’t give me wings?

I can taste the tranquilizzer in my mouth. Not much tiime.

It’s so rreal, this feeling, that I’m afraid to look behind me. It’s too real—too much like Damion’s delusions, back befoore all this. Before Hitaki’s mother explodedd and those people carrried us all awaay and said that we were all insanne. Are we reallly insane? I donnt think so. I think those doctorss, theyre justt trying tooo make us thi nk were crazzzyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

AUTOMATIC KEYBOARD SHUTOFF ENGAGED

TIMED LOCKOUT 40.00 MINS

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Has it really been two whole years? The date on this terminal says we’ve gone from ’09 to ’11 already. Two years. Two years since Mom exploded and those people carried us away, since they threw us in these padded white boxes and told us we were sick. I haven’t seen Damion in almost two months, if the date on this terminal is right. God, I miss her. Grace, too. I thought I heard her screaming just a minute ago, but that might have just been my own crazy head talking to me. I hear screaming in the walls so often lately I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just my own insanity. If I really am crazy at all.

The doctors changed my medication again about three weeks ago, I think, and I’ve been hearing things ever since. Sometimes I see things, too, but I don’t even want to think about the things I’ve seen, much less write them down.

I think I’m not sick at all. The doctors say I’m in here to get treatment for a newly-discovered kind of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, but I don’t think so. I thin I’m in here because I’ve seen too much and they need new dolls to play with. Me and Grace and Damion, the three of us never really fit in on the outside so I guess they figured no one would notice if we disappeared. Especially not after what happened with Mom - I guess most kids would kill themselves after seeing something like that.

I think that was their fault, too. That’s what we saw and that’s why we’re here.

She’s screaming again. I wonder if someone died in this room and that’s what I’m hearing. I used to do that sort of thing all the time even before the doctors said I needed surgery and gave me a new medication. I wonder what they did to me while I was under? Maybe they took me apart and put me back together differently. My hands don’t look right anymore, but it’s been so long since they let me see a mirror that I don’t know if that’s everything they did to me. And it’s been so long since I was on the outside…I wonder if this is really what my hands have always looked like? They seem a bit too pale, a bit too slender, and my fingernails are a bit too sharp. I wonder if the doctors will let me trim them again today? Probably not.

Oh no, it’s already 18:42. My time’s almost up.

What I really meant to write was that I don’t think I’m insane. I don’t think any of us are insane. I think these doctors aren’t doctors, they’re scientists. I think they’re using us in their experiments because the world thinks we’re dead and no one cares what you do to dead people that no one cared about even when they were alive.

The doctors say they don’t read our journals, that it’s the only privacy we have left, but I think they’re lying. I know they’re lying. If you’re reading this, Dr. Tyne, I hope you’re shaking in your lab coat, because I know what you’re doing. Even if the others don’t, I know what you’ve done to us and I don’t intend to let you kee

TIMED LOCKOUT 40.00 MINS

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The woman in the walls is screaming again. I know there’s someone in the walls between our rooms, and I know that you guys do something to hurt her every day so we all think we’re insane.

I know you’re reading this, Doctor Tyne. You and that black-haired guy that you’re always bringing in to talk to us. Thonael, I think. If he’s in town I’m sure he’s reading this, too. I want to tell you that I know I’m not insane, no matter what you try to say and what you shoot me up with.

Hitaki’s mother didn’t just die, Doctor, she exploded. Kaboom. Like a firework.

None of us were supposed to see that, right? No one was supposed to know what you were doing to your patients. That’s why this place is so far away from your other office.

Yeah, I remember that, too. I remember the drive here in the black car from Hitaki’s house, I remember the armed guards outside every door - including mine - and I remember the first medication you put us on. It knocked us out, and that’s when you started doing to us what you couldn’t do to Hitaki’s mom.

I know I’m not insane, and I know you’ve been screwing around with us like lab rats. I’m not dead, regardless of what you’ve told the outside world. I’m not going to let you keep screwing with my head.

USER LOGOFF 18.27 MINS

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Author's Note: This story was inspired by an entry in a friend's livejournal, which I hope she doesn't mind my extrapolating from, and the five main characters contained in it - three protagonists, two antagonists - have a long way to go before they're through. This story is going to be extremely violent, as the rating suggests, so anyone squeamishshould probably leave now.

Also, the rest of the story is going to be written as a third-person narrative, except for the occasional note exchanged between Thonael and Tyne, and the rare occurence in which the patients use theirterminals. Everything will be explained in due time, so please pardon the confusion of this prologue.

(Anyone who has read my FF7 Fanfic Bound will recognize the name of the Doctor, but I can assure you that he's nowhere near as eager to make up for his mistakes.I just could't think of another name, and since I've already established Merien Tyne as a scientist it was easier to use his name. Sorry for any confusion there.)