Waking up on day five, the itchiness on my back had finally eased. Poking at it as best I could with my limited flexibility, I would swear it felt furry. If all they're testing is some sort of hair regrowth formula, I can live with a random hairy patch on my back, but somehow I doubted that was the full story.

No, it obviously wasn't the full story; the patches on my arm and leg had spread. The centre of the patch on my arm now had little red spots at regular intervals, while the one on my leg was so dry that the skin had cracked. Running my hand along my arm, I could feel little bumps under my skin at each of the red spots, but that was nothing compared to my leg. When I rubbed that, I couldn't even feel it, and when I pushed harder, I realised in alarm that sizeable chunks of my skin were rubbing off. It didn't hurt, and there was no blood, but that was far from normal.

I went to take a shower, and even more of my skin washed away. It still didn't hurt, and when I poked at the pale yellow layer underneath I even found some feeling had returned. Something was still wrong though, and not just because pale yellow was not a natural skin colour for anyone with a functional liver. The layer underneath felt hard and leathery, and very unlike skin.

What the hell were these people doing to me? I had three patches on my skin, all of which were doing completely different things. My meals turned up with no further notes, and I was still trapped here. I wondered what my family were doing with me missing. Did they think I was dead? Were they distressed, looking for me? What about Alicia and Samantha, and their own families?

"What are my family doing? Are they looking for me? Are Alicia and Samantha okay?" I asked, just in case, but of course no answer came.