Ami sat down in the chair, trying to cover her face with her hair without being blatantly obvious. She felt the guards' watchful glares boring a hole in the back of her head. She shifted awkwardly. She guessed the others were used to this. 
2 weeks of torture-and there was yet more to come. Ami was dreading it. She had seen how weak, how helpless the prisoners were after a couple of months. She lived in fear of it, but was also somewhat grateful, in a bland sort of way. It was hard to express but she felt safe here, where she couldn't repeat the mistakes of her past- she hoped.

Placed in front of her was a bowl of, well, she wasn't sure what it was, but it looked utterly disgusting. A creamy-brown, sticky pile of slop, dotted with rock-hard bits and a peculiar texture. Any other time she would have refused, but today she was ravenous. She took a spoonful and shoved it in her mouth. She nearly threw up.

Leaving the 'food', she gazed around the room. May people had eaten and left already, but she saw a couple of others, including a boy with glasses and ripped sleeves. She carefully assessed him- his posture and firm expression gave the impression he was a leader.He looked as if searching for someone. He was lucky that he had made friends, whereas she was lonely and lost. Except for the guards, still glaring at her back.