Note 008
I found a mark on the wall. A small, deliberate scratch, just above the light switch. It wasn’t there yesterday. I don’t know if it’s a message or just proof that someone else is as desperate as I am. I added my own mark beneath it. Two parallel lines. A count. A witness. If they’re watching, let them see. Let them know we’re still here. Let them know we remember.
Note 007
They took someone away today. I don’t know who - just the sound of boots, a struggle, then silence. The door at the end of the hall opened and closed. It didn’t open again. I keep telling myself it’s better not to know. But the not knowing is worse. It’s like being buried alive, one slow inch at a time.
Note 006
I heard screaming in the night. Not mine. It came from down the hall, muffled but desperate. I banged on the door until my fists ached, shouting until my throat burned. No one came. This morning, the guard acted like nothing had happened. I asked him about it. He smiled and said, “You must’ve been dreaming.” I wasn’t. I know the sound of terror when I hear it. And I know when I’m being lied to.
Note 005
They brought me food today. Cold, tasteless slop in a metal tray. No cutlery, not that it matters. I’m not hungry. I asked the guard - if that’s what he is - why the windows are blacked out. He didn’t answer. Just stared at me for a long moment, then walked away. I scraped at the paint with my fingernail until it bled. There’s glass beneath it. Thick, reinforced. What are they keeping out? Or what are they keeping in?
Note 004
The lights flickered again last night. Not just once - over and over, like something was struggling to stay alive. Or like a warning. I pressed my ear to the door, but all I heard was that same low hum, the one that never really stops. It’s always there, just beneath everything else. I tried to count the seconds between flickers, but I lost track. My hands were shaking too much. They say the power is unstable, that it’s just the generators acting up. But I don’t believe them. Nothing here is just anything. Everything feels deliberate.
Note 003
It was a difficult day today. When the door opened, I knew something bad was about to happen. It was him again. He had an unsettling grin on his face and his eyes were filled with something sinister. He pointed at me and said, “You know what you must do, don’t you? Don’t forget that.” He turned and left without saying another word. I was left alone again, feeling more confused and scared than ever before.
Note 002
I am not sure I want to talk to that guy again. He keeps asking me about my past. I cannot remember much, only the noise getting worse. I don’t even know where I am, or if I can trust anything I am told. They told me that there are just six of us left and we’re all being looked after, so I should not worry. How the hell am I supposed not to worry when I don’t even know who else is alive here with me? Or are they alive? Why won’t they let us talk to each other? Why am I locked up in this room? I am feeling well enough to stand and walk without any help. I want to get out of here!
Note 001
Are we really the only ones who are left? What happened to the others? I thought we were safe in the sea, far from the coast. I cannot stop thinking about that terrifying noise that we’d been hearing for months. Nobody wanted to believe me, when I was telling people it was getting louder and louder.