I slowly wake up to the same four white walls that always greet me. I slowly rub the sleep from my eyes and look out the window. Sunlight enters the room through the small window of my tiny prison. It hurts my eyes to look at the sunlight, but after spending so long in such a dark place, I can't help but look at its blinding light. It reminds me that there is a world outside these four walls that trap me and in the darkness of the room; its light offers me a little hope. I don't know where I am. I feel like a bird deprived of its freedom and locked in a cage, trapped with no way out. I don't remember when I arrived here; it feels like a lifetime has passed. Worse still, I don't remember anything about myself. Who I am, how old I am, what I did in life… everything is gone. I try to remember, but every time I do, I'm hit with an unusual feeling in my stomach and my head spins. It's like my body doesn't want me to remember it. The small room offers me no comfort; there is only one bed, a door that is almost always locked, and a boarded-up window. Some days I feel like I'm suffocating, there's barely enough space to breathe. My limbs are heavy, my body always needs to sleep but no matter how tired I am, I don't fall asleep. I can't fall asleep. The same dream haunts me every time I close my eyes, leaving me restless and agitated when I wake up. Recently, the situation has worsened. Now the vision not only comes during my sleep, I also see it during the day. I don't know what that means; maybe that means I'm going crazy. I keep seeing a man tied to a table, his blue eyes wide with fear. His voice is hoarse, like he's been screaming for too long, and the same words still elude his... middle of paper ... age. The rustle of fabric and footsteps draw my gaze toward the shadows. There is another presence in the room, hidden in the shadows of the dimly lit room. I can see the outline of a body moving, safe in the darkness, until another step brings it out of the darkness and into the light. It's me. My fingers are wrapped around a sharp knife and I stare in horror at my mirror. the image makes a deep incision in my brother's skin. Then, a small bomb the exact size of a pacemaker suddenly finds itself in my hands and I slide it into my brother. He's screaming now, tears streaming down his face, his words breathless. “Help me… please help me…” My mirror image sews the time bomb back into him then steps back into the shadows. I can move again, the ice freezing my muscles melts, and I try to reach out. It explodes and I wake up to the sound of my own scream.