Grace
My room is nine feet by six feet. I don’t mean this literally, I mean that’s the number of steps it takes me to get from one side of the room to the other. I’ve had plenty of time to count. Maybe I should’ve been counting the days instead of my steps, so I’d know how long I’ve been here, but it’s hard to keep track when every day is almost exactly like the one that came before. The only furniture is the small bed where I sleep and another bed on the opposite wall. I don’t know if the bedpan counts, but there’s that, too.
The only light, other than the fluorescent lamps overhead, comes from a tiny, square-shaped window in the door. Just large enough for someone to see through. They’re always watching, even when it looks like they’re not. I can feel their eyes on me. Especially at ni
