Inside my house, I keep a room. It holds one of my fantasies, becoming a reality. I call this room ‘Broken’, as everyone here has no face. Their faces destroyed, broken by my will. Six people, each chained up and each have nothing but scars instead faces. They have no eyes, no nose and no teeth. I have even banned them from having ears and hair. When I brought them here, I sunk my knife into their throat and gently cut away at their faces, pulling them off in one sheet. Over to one side of the room, there are six mannequin heads. The faces are still preserved there. I have chosen to ignore the fact that they would rot, because I want to see the faces of these broken people. I want to be reminded of who they were before I trapped them here. It’s a shame no one else can see my creatures here. Each face sits perfectly on the mannequin head. Again, because my fantasy decides decay is no longer an issue, I have carefully removed each person’s eyes, and inserted them into the holes of their faces, which sits on the mannequin heads. I just leave these people here, chained up, screaming their beautiful songs of pain. Sometimes I’ll come into this room and hear a lovely tune. Really, they do sing instead of scream sometimes. I can’t hear the words, because they have no tongue, so they can’t speak. I guess you can’t call the hole that sits in the middle of their head a mouth, but that’s where the sound comes from. Even though they don’t have ears, they still have holes, which they can hear from, because I would feel horrible if I took their hearing as well as their sight. I don’t know why they sing, maybe to cover up their permanent pain, maybe to create something positive. Sometimes I pull up a chair and sit in the middle of Broken, listen to the singing, and dance with my arms, waving in front of my pets. They can’t see me dancing, but I’m sure they would appreciate the sight of an audience if I allowed them eyes.