The room was cold, dull, and gray. At least–in my eyes it was. That’s what I think every time I’m forced to sit in this room for an hour. Just listening to Dr. Donnelly continuously talk, and yet I hear nothing. His words enter one ear and flow out the other side. My head was positioned on a tilt, eyelids heavy, feeling the chilly air in this what they call a hospital gown. I almost got the straitjacket, but I decided to play nice and listen to their rules, their commands.

I look around at all the stained glass windows, the colors reflecting off the walls from the sun. "It's so beautiful---" I stared in awe.

I slowly walked around the room, uneased by all these wooden mannequins, until I froze when I heard faint sobbing. Muffled sobbing in fact. I followed the sound, finding the source, and stood in absolute horror as I stared into the face of the mannequin, being greeted by eyes. Staring back at me, in fear. That was when I noticed the blood. Were people shoved into these mannequins like a shell??