[Life is not the same here as it is stuck inside of one house. Ksenia has been trapped in boxes, in houses, with four walls surrounding her, all her life. This place has more space, more walls, and less freedom. She doesn't understand the concept, the part about how this is supposed to help her.
She's afraid of being near anyone, yet this place is filled with people she's forced to interact with: roommates, free time having to be outside of her room, staff. She has to tell everything that happened to her to someone she barely knows?
On her twenty-first birthday, he brought her a cheap bottle of vodka and told her happy birthday. He was he was sorry he couldn't afford more.
It was around that time that she was in love with him. It was for that thought, the bottle of vodka, that she fucked him. She swore she was in love. And the next few days, he took her out to dinner.
Now, she can't think about alcohol and she can't eat anything.
So she's kind of just been sitting here in the cafeteria, fork in the mashed potatoes as if they won't slip through when she tries to shovel them off the plate and onto the table, so if they spill onto some gross, unclean part of the asylum, she has an excuse.
After the first part of potatoes hits the table, she looks up to check her left and right to make sure that no one saw it, though, to her demise, a brown-haired male stands before her.
And he looks nothing like him.] Uh, if the food touches the table, they can't make me eat it.
