I am Masahiro Goto, formerly SCP-2265-A. Five years ago I was released from a twenty year time loop. I need not elaborate further; the Foundation gave me a (heavily censored) copy of my documentation at my release, but I am prohibited from discussing it with anyone. But I digress.
I have watched many new movies and television shows since I was released. One which my supervising agent recommend to me, Groundhog Day, rings true to me. I did some further reading, and found out that someone calculated Bill Murray's character spends 30 years in the loop. I do not know how long I spent there exactly (nor do I care to count), but 20 years is a lot of time. I should write down my memories, so I may yet learn from fate's choice for me.
First, there was the changes. Well, not quite first - after shock, panic, despair, and resigned acceptance, then came the changes. I found I could manipulate the waiter's hand in the brief moment he noticed us. Calling for help became disappointing, then repetitive, then dull. I found the best was to convince Andrew to play a game with me: I was a mute, and I wrote down my order. I did eventually get tired of the entire menu, but I am thankful I had an empty stomach that day.
Whatever put me in there made it so Andrew would not know we were trapped unless I informed him advertently or otherwise (I know this because Andrew's small bladder would have caused him to stir a dozen times were it not for supernatural intervention). Andrew was, and still is, a fascinating man. Here are some things I learned.
I learned to read people. Not in the psychic sense, of course, but in the sense of expression. Growing up, I always had a difficult time learning expressions - not helped by the fact that my people are stoic by nature. I found only in animation could I clearly read exaggerated expressions.
With Andrew, I learned his many "tells". He would adjust his collar if he was nervous, he would rub his hair if he was curious. I had as many attempts and fails as I could have ever wanted, and ten times even that. By the end of our captivity, I could tell much better how people felt about what I was saying (after the initial shock, of course).
My fluency in English is very obviously helpful to me now. I am only slightly more noticeable then a second-generation native, so I have been able to do well for myself here. I thought it amusing when I had to pretend a thick accent to avoid piquing Andrew's curiosity. Even more curious was when he taught me French, and Spanish, and Russian. It is amazing, learning a new language; it's as if you have put on a new pair of contacts and hearing aids that allow the world to be clearly illuminated to you.
I digress. Perhaps it is time to end my meditation.
A further note: many have wondered (as I have) how I could have survived what the Foundation called my "Iterations." I prefer to think of it in a more subjective way. Our minds have a give for engraving repetition; by the time I was freed, I could order a meal and speak several languages almost by instinct. I read a theory, once, that if a group of fans was trapped in a sporting arena, and became aware of it, they would at first panic, then fight, then accept it, then, eventually, play the game. So many times would they play the game that eventually they would become as soulless and predictable as a calculator, losing their sentience as humans lost the purpose of their ancestral organs.
I am thankful my mind did not atrophy. I close with a pondering note: I do not believe in God, but I do believe something ordained my fate. Were I trapped in the same circumstance again, would I be able to make use of it? (This, my friends, is why I always carry my laptop on me.)
I do not know if I am blessed, cursed, or simply have bad luck. Either way, I have accepted what the world has put me through, and am prepared to stare into the abyss if it calls me back.