Day one: why do you insist on trying to cut my hair?

Heart. Heart. Heart. That's what they call me and that's the only name I have. I live in a room with the walls painted gray. There's a bed with black covers and one pillow, a bathroom with a shower, sink and anything else I might need, a closet with beige and gray outfits that are dull and a big bolted door that only opens once everyday. Sometimes someone comes inside and performs tests on me, sometimes they just give me my daily food and leave, and once in a while they don't come at all. I don't know for sure what I look like since there aren't any mirrors in my room but I don't let them cut my hair so I know for sure its this light blond color. All I can do in here is read, study, draw, and take showers. This is my story, and it tells about how someone finds me and gets me out..........