Journaling has always been a way for me to process my thoughts and emotions but never before has it felt so vital to my survival. I am a prisoner, held captive. I can document my captivity and share my story with the world. It is a way to keep hope alive, even in the darkest of times. I do not know how long I have been here, but it feels like an eternity.
My captor brings me food and water each day, but never speaks to me. I have tried to communicate with them, but they always ignore me. The only sound in this place is the sound of my own breathing. I do not know if anyone will ever read these words, but writing them is helping me to stay alive. As long as I can keep writing, I know there is a chance that someone will it and learn of my nightmare. Until then, I will continue to document my days in this prison journal, in the hopes that someday my story will be told.
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