IAll I can say is that my life is pretty plain: I like watching the puddles gather rain…

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For the years Adrian was held captive, she had never been happy. But as time passed, the sharp terror she used to feel at the touch of metal on her skin turned into dull misery at every waking moment. Some mornings, it hurt to breathe, some it hurt to walk, and some it hurt just to think. But it always hurt.

All life that should have made her childhood happy even in the face of terror was slowly washed away, till all that remained was bitter longing for affection.

She remembered one warm spring morning, when she had asked Isobel if she loved her. Isobel had laughed at her, making the answer as clear as day, and told her to get back to learning. Isobel always had her learn. From the age of six, Adrian had had books instead of toys, facts and figures instead of child's fantasies and logical despair in the place of hope. Where love should have kissed her face and made it rosy and full with , hatred carved icy beauty