Comfortable. Privileged. Happy. Three things I no longer understand; three things I can no longer fathom. Chaos and mayhem overwhelm this room as we are used as guinea pigs for a mass experiment. An experiment that involves mass murder. We've been locked in this room for, some of us, two years. For me, it's hardly been a week. And yet, I can already feel time itself dragging my body down into the dirt. Comfortable. Privileged. Happy. Three things I have when they aren't in here, when they aren't terrifying us, depriving us of sleep. Three things that are only momentarily a gift from God, until the horrors of this room returns. Comfortable. Privileged. Happy. Kidnapped. Tortured. How strong is your faith?