Grace
I don’t have cafeteria privileges or outdoor privileges or even shower privileges. Those have to be earned, I am told. It seems to me, at least so far, that in and of itself is not easy to do. Not in a place like this, where everything is measured and something as simple as having the wrong facial expression is seen as a sign of disobedience.
I’ve never had the friendliest of faces, therefore I am stuck in this room, which means I spend a lot of time wondering if perhaps prison wasn’t the better option. My predicament affords me a lot of time to think, and, in my opinion, that is enough to make a person insane if they weren’t already.
I wasn’t. I’m still not.
I hope I didn’t make it sound like Charles and I were unhappy before. It wasn’t that at all. We weren’t unhappy, just tire
