Dear Hannah,

You know, nobody visits me here. You don't. My parents don't either. Why?

My parents said they'd come. But they never did.

I remember my mom saying, 'my boy is growing up'.

Maybe that's why they don't come here. Growing boys don't need parental supervision.

But I still find myself asking the same questions again and again.

Why did all of you leave me alone?

Why don't you come and talk to me?

It's not nice here, without you all.

I miss you. I miss my mom and dad.

I miss you guys like crazy.

Here, the Physical and Mental Fitness doctor, Mr. Gerald gave me and my fellow mates a diary each.

A diary for us to write about our daily events.

He said it will help cut down our boredom and free our minds of evil ideas.

Evil ideas, pfft.

As if we're all criminals here.

Sometimes I think, Dr. Gerald is mentally retarded.

But he was right. Writing to you using this diary did kill my boredom.

I owe him a 'thank you'.

Okay, so I have been wanting to ask you this for a while now.

Will you come and visit me here?

Pretty please?

Wait, someone is coming. I better