Almost seven weeks into my captivity, things have begun deteriorating, but I believe I may be wearing Mommy and Daddy down. I have embarked on a campaign of maintaining a fussing regimen as continuously as I can, especially over the night hours, since I noticed this seems to bother my jailors most.

I do not trust the milk liquid, which seems to make me sick again, but they have offered it in a new, even more irresistible way (better not discuss that). I fight it at times, but at other times I succumb, too tired to fight any longer.

I recently received a new uniform, which clearly marks my status.


You’ll notice that although they can force me to wear this, they can’t make me like it.

I have started noticing that Mommy and Daddy have faces. In an effort to understand them better (always understand your enemies), I have begun copying their facial expressions. Daddy sticks his tongue out – goodness only knows why – so I stick my tongue out. Mommy smiles, so I smile. No insights yet, but I persist. Perseverance is one of my strengths.

I have also started working on keeping a close eye on my captors, heroically holding up my head despite the fact that my neck tires quickly. In this reconnaissance, I have noticed some patterns, lights, and edges that I am positive were not there before. Suspicious. They must be trying to confuse me and make me doubt my own eyes.

My steadfast resistance has not yet defeated my captors, but I remain hopeful. They cannot continue to hold me like this forever.

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