Might as well do a story today.

It's been a while since I've written a story.

I don't have any premises planned or whatsoever, so let's just go with the flow.

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The sound of music was hitting his eardrums quite pleasantly- or at least, subjectively pleasant. To others, it might be some weird noise that would be annoying, or hurtful to the ears, or even, unlistenable. However, not to him. He finds the music somehow pleasing.

This has always been the case since he was small. He has always been able to hear things in a better light (or sound, in this case) than most normal people. Weird, eccentric, strange new sounds are nothing more but new fun things for him to hear. It was as if his ears were enchanted with such a spell, that the only one who would be able to enjoy the noise was him and no one else.

It was his persistence to continue listening to such a noise that now leaves him isolated. Yes, he was not alone. Now, he is. The sound was too brilliant to be missed. He wouldn't be able to part with such an art of a sound. The sounds kept beating in his eardrums. He didn't want it to end.

The floor was cold. It was icy cold. The white walls, and the white floor. They were all mercilessly icy. Everything was white and cold, like winter. It wasn't winter, nor was it snowing. The room he was in - if indeed you could call it a room - was enough for only 10 people to fit in standing. In fact, the amount of room he has been living in every single day was painfully tight. Forgive my misnomer, but I should probably call it a cell instead.

Yes, he has been alone for quite some time now in the cell. The only people to frequently visit him would be the old man in white robes, a rather youngish woman in white uniform, and a big, young man in his blue and black uniform. If he had to guess, the middle-aged man would be around 60 or so, the woman would be in her 30s, and the man would be in his middle 20s.

His mind has been quite off for some time now. How did he get there on his own anyway in the cell? Why in this cell? Why alone? Can I ever get out? Many thoughts are racing in his mind, but the ones most articulate are particularly the ones stating, "I want to get out of here."

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That's it for now, it's 11 o'clock, and I promised myself I'll shut the laptop off by 11. No more for me. I'm already too tired. I've slept at 1 o'clock these 2 days, and had to wake up at 8 am. That might be easy for you, but it's not for me. Sleeping less than 8 hours continously makes me a drowsy and unpleasant person.

Yes. I haven't even watched anything these past 2 days, couldn't quite find the mood.