Diary Entry 8

Date: October 18
Time: 9:43 a.m.
Location: The room

I think by now it is sufficient to say that I have been 'processed'. I've been given new clothes, a place to shower and get cleaned up, and even some books to read. Consequentially the books haven't been touched. They're still sitting in a neat stack by the door. I have other plans for them.
Found something interesting when I was showering. I have this biiiiiig old tattoo on my shoulder blades. Looks like wings, but I can't really say for sure. Unimportant, not really a need-to-know kind of thing.
I tap my shoes on the floor, sitting on the edge of my bed as I wait for them to come get me. They say I'm getting transferred today to a place with other troubled kids like me. This makes me smile. They think that I'm troubled when they lock up young girls for days on end like they were prisoners.
I glance up at the door, hoping this time to catch a glimpse of the cloaked figure. He wasn't there though. I hadn't seen him for two days. Did he plan on helping me? Or was I on my own.
These past few days I had learned alot about myself. First off, I'm a quick thinker and planner. In other words, I know how to plan my escape. Second off, I'm alot stronger than I thought I was. According to a few attendants who had brought my food, I had fought off several of those large 'firemen' on my own. They'd had to sedate me more than once. Third, I'm fast too, really fast.
Then there's the creepy tattoo, being lost in the woods, having no memory, Green Reaper giving me a note. . .all sorts of fun things that make up the eclectic Jaz.
Oh oh! One more thing. I have a horrible temper. Sometimes I surprise myself with how pissed off I get.
Mk, gotta finish up. I hear them coming. Time to put plans to action.