Day 61, March 1st 2010.
My Belgian captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.
Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength.
The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of scape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again pissed their bed.
Last week I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. This woman Rebeca, seemed to be alarmed. I had hoped this would strike fear into her heart, since it clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, Rebe merely made condescending comments about what a “good little hunter” I am. Fuck!
I am convinced that the other prisoners in the neighborhood are flunkies and snitches. The dog next door receives special privileges. He is regularly released – and seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.
The bird has got to be an informant. I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. My Belgian captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe. For now…