“8:30 am”. The hollow words with a robotic tone echoed in my skull, leaving a humming sensation before they faded.
I opened my eyes staring at the gray ceiling with white patches that hung above me, but I sat there motionless just like the mattress below me. It was 8:30 am which meant that by now only a scrape of cement hard bread and a half-boiled egg would be left for me to eat. Breakfast here at T-4330 closes by nine, and the kids, hungry for almost ten and a half hours lick away all the food by 8:30 and some even try to sneak away with loaves of bread to their respective rooms and when I say 'try', it never gets to anything further than that. If the kid gets caught, which he or she always does, by the cafeteria staff their hours of being hungry are extended. The House of the Lords thinks that keeping the kids hungry every night would make them value the food and it wouldn't be wasted...Read More