Alien warmth beats down upon my skin; accompanied by a savage light my eyes strain to comprehend, a farcry from the mute halogen of my childhood. My mind reels at the vast courtyard before me as I shuffle forward into the bright unknown.

Vibrant green grass. Bricks. My bare feet upon cement feeling the harsh comparison against linoluem.

Clipped tweets of a bird unmarred by crackling audio, its bright red plumage catching my eye as it flitters past the deep open sky.

As I look back on this moment in my life, as I now know, smells of Lavander.


The door behind me, shut off from my home. Now only memories. Free they call it: my friends; family even, to find oneself leaving the compound. But, as unheard sounds and a suns warmth assault my senses, I cant help but yearn for a familiar small cell. Even the cold steel of The Table, with its vicious implements awaiting would be a welcome sight.

A gates hinge in desperate need of oil announces the arrival of another. She, standing in a dress of many colours, with a crooked grin. A sympathetic gaze.

I learnt that later, as all who met me looked as though I a stray dog. An injured animal. Even a subject to be feared.

But in that moment, utterly unaware of my nakedness yet fearful nonetheless, I was introduced to the outside world.

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