Room 317, Saturday Afternoon

The girl who lived in 317 was, like many people today, a bit confused. She'd woken up (again like many people today) not knowing who she was, but a dig through her things had unearthed a pile of letters from someone named 'Z' to someone named 'Jack' who was in jail. And she'd found a lot of uniforms in her closet. She assumed she was Jack, and they were prison uniforms of some sort. This didn't look like a jail cell, though, though she wasn't even sure how she knew what a jail cell looked like. A halfway house of some sort, maybe? She wasn't sure she trusted the look of the robot-thingy.

If anyone came by room 317, they would find the door open and 'Jack' peering out, wondering if it was okay for her to go outside.

((Open!))