[i]Tap. Tap. Tap.[/i]

My stitching needle tapped against the edge of the bed, or pallet, or whatever the uncomfortable bedding was. It was something I did until one of the guards growled for me to stop...which didn't happen today because one was too busy tormenting the poor android in the cage on my side... Again. I wonder why they're so cruel sometimes, but I doubt I'll get a good answer for that. Once again I'm stuck in my little display cage for all of them to poke and prod at me. This hellish life is unbearable, but it's all that I have. No matter what I think, no matter how much I convince myself, I know I'm stuck here in this hell hole. And by how long I've been here and the weird clothes occasionally, it's guaranteed we were in space. So there is no possible way to leave anyway. And to think, that is only half of the matter. 
The real issue is the scattered stitches going over my entire body. That really flaws an appearance...

Not including the palish gray skin, or the fact that the doctors tried to he funny and give me an outfit that matched my appearance... It's really difficult to explain who or what I am because, well... I don't remember or know any of it. But some guards and doctors adopted the name 'Doll' for me. It suits the- everything about me really. Stitched body, pale skin, weird dress- and don't forget some of the cotton stuffed into my body. What the hell am I? It's something I think about constantly. It wasn't fair that most of them had a definite idea of what they could be and maybe even their purpose- but I think I was just some experiment for them to toy with. I sort of think of it as I was one of those toys that children thought would be interesting- but realizing otherwise, they just threw me off to the side. 

Realizing I was rambling in thoughts, I decided to just lean back against the wall, sitting on this uncomfortable bedding. Occasionally, I glance over through the cages to look at all the other castaways or things thrown off to the side. They looked perfectly fine in my eyes... But what would I know? I'm a castaway just like them. 

Nothing is getting better any time fast. It's a routine around here that has never been broken. And here I find myself wondering how I could get away from here or even how to have a normal life in this condition. Ha. Yeah right. Those were merely dreams and fantasies I knew I couldn't obtain. A normal life... What was my life like before? Well, it didn't really matter because I couldn't go back anyway. "I wonder how long it's been since we've been here." Being cooped up for so long, it's kind if hard not to speak out every now and then. Most of the time I never expect anyone to speak back, and I am perfectly fine with that. 

What could a group of broken experiments possibly talk about?