You know there’s a way out, there has to be. You’ve seen them enter and you’ve seen them leave, but you don’t know how they do it. Every so often they come a give you food, water, the bare essentials to keep you alive. You’re breathing, the fresh air must come from somewhere. But the box has no entrances or exits. You can’t tell the time, the only thing you have to go off is when they feed you, and it’s a pretty irregular cycle. You’re always tired, you haven’t seen the sun in what you assume must be days.