It was the fifth night in cell 16, my reflection staring back at me. The lights had gone out on the evening of the second day, leaving me and the rest of the people here shrouded in darkness after 4pm. No one has come to check on us since then, and the food they left me ran out yesterday morning. There were sirens outside, but they stopped yesterday too. I don't know what's going on, or if I'll even find a way out of here, but I hope the family is okay. Jesse always was the dumb one, getting into trouble with the bad kids at school.

I don't know why I'm here, but it looks like I might have to stay a while longer. It's day seven now, and I can feel starvation seeping into my bones. I don't think I'll make it another day. I managed to break a piece of concrete off the bench, but it's done little to the ballistic glass that stands in my way. I got it to chip a bit, but the fatigue is killing me.

I heard scraping on the window last night. It woke me up. I tried to call out to whoever it was, only no one replied. The banging and scratching got louder at first, but I didn't think that was a good thing. I hid behind the steel door, under the window until morning. I don't know what's going on. I just want out of here.

It's day nine. I spend the last eight hours or so trying to break the glass and I got a hole through, but I can't do anymore. I'm just too tired. I think...