I awoke this morning still strapped in the chair. This wasn’t a surprise, though the chair had oxidized more than I might have expected.
I promised myself, when this all began, that I would not panic prematurely. That I would not engage in hyperbole. That I would wait, surely I would wait, until something bad actually happened before screaming out.
Yes, I promised myself this and I always keep the promises I make to myself. I believe if one does not keep one’s promises to oneself, then trust is broken, and if I no longer trust myself, then all is truly lost.
Still, I awoke this morning to discover a small table had been brought into the room during the night. Upon this table sits a silver tray. Upon the tray are tools – implements, even, you might say – such as could be used in crude dental extractions. I also see a long apparatus like an ice pick and another of a sort for, say, scooping out small lumps of ice cream, I suppose.
The laughing in the corridor outside is of the type described in literature as “maniacal”.
He can’t come in yet – he’s not allowed to – and I did promise myself I would not panic prematurely, although I admit to you that ever since someone rolled out sheets of plastic beneath my chair last week, that’s a promise which I have been greatly tempted to break.
I am going to sit here and wait to see how all of this plays out.