2:
Does this belong to me? I found it underneath my bed.
My name is Recruit 273.
I have failed in my duty. I was ordered to guard a handful of slaves, without feeding them. But they looked at me, so pitifully, pleadingly. They begged for mercy, and in my weakness, I gave it to them.
For the first time in weeks, I was reminded of my dog. I can barely recall his face, now. Were there others, important to me? I can't remember. I suppose it doesn't matter. All that matters is my obedience. And I have failed.
I fed the slaves. One by one, each act of defiance leaving me drained, weak.
I felt something, though. Something … good.
I haven't felt that way in a very long time. I don't expect to again.
The Commandant will surely visit grievous torture on me for my disobedience. I welcome it. I deserve it. And yet … given the chance to do it again, I don't think my choice would be any different.
I deserve what fate befalls me.
