Once locked in an assessment centre, stripped of my clothing,  my every move watched my every minute monitored  I said to one of the staff  “Sir, you’re more institutionalised than we are aren’t you. You’re in here as well”.  We were all  in what they called  “the system”. I was an experiment that kept going wrong. Each time it went wrong I was moved to another laboratory with another set of ham-fisted technicians who were carrying out orders of The System without knowledge as to  where I was from.  It was not as much open to abuse as inviting it. The technicians slowly went crazy and prayed for retirement in their tea breaks.

Like Lisbeth Salander in The Millenium Series the only proof  of their  abuses was recorded in me.  They knew it. I knew it. And because I knew it I was a threat.   As the night watchman prowled the corridors between the locked dormitories I  remember thinking that I was either stark raving mad or this stuff was really happening.  I was in La Cité des enfants perdus. It really was happening.  (click here for part two)