Juliette.I can't control a nightmare, but in my waking moments her name is the only reminder I will permit myself.

I've been locked up for 264 days.1 window. 4 walls. 144 square feet of space. 26 letters in an alphabet I haven't spoken in 264 days of isolation.6.336 hours since I've touched another human being.

They locked me up with a boy. A boy.Dear God.They're trying to kill me.

I can’t be my own person, if i constantly require someone else to hold me together.

I was stupid. Careless.But the truth is, I was distracted.By her.

I never thought it would get this bad. I never thought the Reestablishment would take things so far. They're incinerating culture, the beauty of diversity. The new citizens of our world will be reduced to nothing but numbers, easily interchangeable, easily removable, easily destroyed for disobedience.We have lost our humanity.

Ignite, my love. Ignite.

Time goes on even when we do not.

Please—please get up—and lower your voice—”“Hell no.”“Why not?” I’m pleading now.“Because if I lower my voice, I won’t be able to hear myself speak. And that,” he says, “is my favorite part.