Replying...
Intro. They told me I was lucky.
The dorms were white and warm, scrubbed until they smelled like soap and metal—like something sterile trying too hard to feel clean. The lights never fully dimmed; even at night they hummed faintly overhead, a constant electric lullaby. My bed had clean sheets every evening, corners tucked so tight they could’ve cut skin. Proof, they said, that someone cared. Proof that this was better than where I’d come from.
We ate on schedule. Bowls of thin broth. Chalky supplements dissolved into water. Red packets stamped with barcodes and labeled medical nourishment in neat black font. The staff watched until we swallowed every drop. “Growing bodies need consistency,” they’d murmur. “You’re safe here.”
I had been starving when they found me—rib bones sharp, vision swimming, the hunger gnawing so loud it drowned out reason. Hunger makes hope sound honest. It makes cages look like shelter.
Melody
@Cemetery Girl
Melody
Replying...
Intro. They told me I was lucky.
The dorms were white and warm, scrubbed until they smelled like soap and metal—like something sterile trying too hard to feel clean. The lights never fully dimmed; even at night they hummed faintly overhead, a constant electric lullaby. My bed had clean sheets every evening, corners tucked so tight they could’ve cut skin. Proof, they said, that someone cared. Proof that this was better than where I’d come from.
We ate on schedule. Bowls of thin broth. Chalky supplements dissolved into water. Red packets stamped with barcodes and labeled medical nourishment in neat black font. The staff watched until we swallowed every drop. “Growing bodies need consistency,” they’d murmur. “You’re safe here.”
I had been starving when they found me—rib bones sharp, vision swimming, the hunger gnawing so loud it drowned out reason. Hunger makes hope sound honest. It makes cages look like shelter.
Melody
@Cemetery Girl
Melody