(FINALLY.) "But I don't understand." "We have explained this before; you do not NEED to understand." The young girl, the one to whom the first voice belonged, withdrew even further within herself. She drew her knees to her chin, tucked her arms behind her legs and buried her face in her knees. Though often a set of motions undertaken when a child is being petulant, the gentle trembling in limbs too tiny to defend the body they belonged to seemed to prove just the opposite. This was all met with a sigh; the sound of metal scraping against metal caused the child to flinch away as the Woman in the Labcoat sat down in front of the girl's bed where the girl was currently huddled. "Nineteen-" "Trill…" "Excuse me?" The woman's retort was sharp, harsh and echoing in the sparsely furnished, dimly lit room. It had reached the time of day during which the girl was supposed to sleep. A simulated night time which coincided with the actual setting of the sun and was initiated by a gentle and continuous dimming of the overhead fixtures. Due to her increased fear of the dark, a fear which had grown worse over time and had begun interfering with the research, they had recently installed a set of what were essentially night lights; tiny pinprick holes in the ceiling which let in just enough light to alleviate her fears. "I…M-My name is..is Trill." She murmured from behind her knees. "Nineteen, we have been over this as well. You cannot have a name. Not yet, at least. It is important for you to continue reacting and accepting your designation as number Nineteen. Besides," Another sigh and the girl felt a cool pressure on her arm, another on the top of her head. Knowing it was what she wanted, she raised her head, and kept her gaze on the Woman's cheek, unwilling and unable to meet her eyes. "Nineteen is our favorite number you know." The woman chuckled and reached out to pet the girl's hair, a motion the girl once again recognized as something meant to soothe or calm her. When no response was forthcoming from the girl the woman sighed, stood and began to take her leave, gathering her various folders and coat. Already the sparse room appeared even starker as the woman gathered what little she had brought in the room, including the metallic chair. Soon the room would consist entirely of a twin sized bed with freshly pressed white sheets and a still quaking young girl. The Woman offered no other words except, "We will be here in the morning; there will be no meals until after the procedure. Do try to get sleep, Nineteen." And then she was gone, and Nineteen was left alone with her thoughts in a room with false darkness and, now, gently pulsating symbols on the walls of her confines and a false sense of night.