With my nerves frayed, I move into an old apartment building that is strangely quiet.
By day, the neighbors are kind, keep regular hours, and fill the place with the comforts of everyday life.
But at ten each night, the whole building falls silent.
Countless eyes stare through the glass, all fixed on my window.
Silent gazes, gentle tests, tiny marks.
They don't hurt anyone or force anyone. They simply wait for me to fall in line.
I fight with all my might, but day after day, trapped in their grip, I gradually begin to breathe in sync with the entire building.
I thought escaping meant a new life,
never knowing that what they called freedom was merely the start of another cycle.
The same building, different rooms.
Some are asleep, some are watching, and some have long since become one of them.
And I will never escape.
