Day nine hundred twenty eight.
Almost three years in this place would break anyone, but it can't break Daniel.
"Ma Ma. Ma Ma."
The words of a mechanical doll wake him. He rolls both of his ankles, making sure his nightmare is still real. The clinking sound of cuffs bring the feeling of panic in the form of bile up to his throat. He leans over the side of the bed and spits into a rusty bucket.
"Did I blackout again? I'm sorry, honey," he says, stroking the straw like hair of the doll lying next to him under the covers. She blinks at him as a slight breeze enters the room from a crack in one of the windows. "Don't look at me like that, I know what you're thinking, but today could be the day."
"Suicide is the indecisive man's solution," she says with a grin.
"I told you already, I can't do it."
"Indecision is the fear of man."
"I am not afraid to die. I have simply resigned myself to living. Circumstances be damned," he reasons, shaking one foot in the air, making the ankle cuffs clink. "