An uneventful day.

It was one of those days. The days when simply nothing happens, and you find yourself wondering why you even bothered getting out of bed. Of course, in my case, getting out of bed was the only thing to do.

I've been here, in this damp cell, for more than twenty years. With no light, no fresh air, and for the last five, no fresh food. I can only guess what has happened outside my stone prison, and from what I've been able to gather it isn't good.
I might be the last person alive on this forsaken planet.

I was imprisoned here 7500 days ago. Political reasons, was what the world was told. And they accepted that reason, and let me here to rot. The first few weeks I was in a normal cell, until someone decided that my ideas were to dangerous for the public to listen to, and I was brought to the innermost cellar, and locked in one of the remaining medieval cells. Since then I was given food through a small hatch in the door, while I remained in the dark. Around five years ago, the food suddenly stopped arriving.

I would have died, were it not for what can only be labelled as sheer luck. In one corner of my cell, a small trickle of water falls from the ceiling into a hole in the floor, providing me with fresh water, and allowing me to clean myself when necessary. Rats and bugs still come through the hatch, so I've been able to have some food. But I know this won't keep on for long.

I can hear no noise, apart from the water and the animals. The sound of humanity, the vibrations I felt in the walls caused by heavy machinery, ceased the same day my jailer stopped coming.

I can only suppose, that everyone else is dead.