Some days passed in this boring place. My reflection in the mirror is now completely visible. The paleness of my skin is completely gone. Twitches are still there, but the puking is slowly getting better. Every sensory input makes my skin prick.

Female Bugs A, B, and C are having tea time. Since my five successful attempts at negotiating their fights and frankly manipulating them into liking each other, the chaos in the facility is nearly gone. Male Bug A is still grateful; according to him, I am an amazing matchmaker. Disgusting bug. Male Bug B is still skeptical. His background suggests a deep-seated trauma, possibly from a male figure, either his father or another authority. Because of his ingrained fear of male figures, he is not easy to approach. Great. A good puzzle to solve.

Male Bug C has completely put distance between us. Great.

After lunch, I approached Male Bug B from behind. I covered the sound of my footsteps, not lightly enough to tiptoe and scare him, but at least enough to ensure he was aware of my presence. He shrieked like a swine. Sexual trauma. Puzzle solved easily.

Stolen story; please report.

Female Bug A offered me her strawberry jelly. Unfortunately, even sugar is not enough anymore. The blood rush does not give me the bliss I am craving.

I have been a model participant in every activity. Every single one of them was boring. They make me read poetry out loud since I have a deep and calm voice to soothe those bugs.

We have been given painting classes. Painting classes from an art teacher. That bug did not even have the right diploma to converse stimulating enough about art. The sheer audacity.

Since I instilled some form of peace between those bugs and even make sure they breed, nurses have been rather attentive to me. I offered my connection to a reputable adoption agency to Female Nurse B. She was so delighted that she hugged me. Utterly disgraceful. How dare a medical professional make skin contact with a patient?

Her cheap perfume made my stomach churn and made me puke on my room. The hairline fractures on my ribs have been healing, but gagging and coughing makes it hurt. Endorphins are still a welcome hormonal rush.

Raphael always smelt nice. Even after he sweated like he ran a marathon. His skin was smooth like marble and warm to touch. Running my fingers alongside his ribs, drawing small circles on his abdomen and seeing how every single hair on his body shivered was always nice.