I think I am starting to understand some things. The little I can think with so much pain. I pulled out my nails, and now touching anything with the upper part of my fingertips hurts even more. I am covered in blood. And clothing. It seems like a short shirt and long baggy trousers.

I wonder what color they are. I guess they were. Now they are red. 

The laughing voices got now a few friends now. I think I'm hearing 4 different voices. Or maybe 5. Two of them sound very similar, but slightly different.

I know you are there. Now I am certain. You didn't put me here though. Do you want me to be here, trapped? I don't think so. Are you trying to find me, help me? I don't think so either.

My name was something interesting. It meant something. Now I don't remember.

Whoever put me here, if I wasn't born here, I would like to know why you hate me so much. You should let me die, and join the laughing voices.

I think I'll use my lost nails to try and cut my arteries. If I'm lucky enough, I'll die.