 Kitten opened her eyes and stared blankly at the ceiling of her quarters, counting the dots on the acoustic tile. When she got to 32, she sat up on the edge of her bed and stretched her arms out over her head. The first thing she saw sitting on her desk was her laptop computer. She tapped the spacebar and the screen lit up to reveal the words, watch me first, Kitten in a giant 100-point font in the center of a black screen. Oh, it happened again. She checked the date on the computer's calendar, checked it against the date she remembered the last time she went to sleep, two weeks off. She reached out and tapped the screen. There was a brief pause and then the video began playing. On the screen, she could see herself sitting at her desk. There was a glass of water and two blue pills in front of her and a slip of paper in her hand. The Kitten on the computer screen cleared her throat, looked down at the slip of paper and began to read. I, Agent Tavales St. Matthews, serial number 43857764-735, hereby elect to undergo memory redaction therapy. I have been completely briefed on the risks and dangers this therapy may entail. I hear by state that I am undergoing this therapy of my own free will and that I have not been unduly coerced into doing so by any other party. She saw herself take both pills, down it with the glass of water and reach out to turn off the video recorder. Kitten sighed, what does that make it, 20 times now? This can't be good for my brain. She closed the video file and opened up the folder marked Mission Report to find out what she decided she no longer wanted to remember first hand. And a file. To learn more about the SCP Foundation, subscribe to SCP Orientation today and turn the notification bell on so you don't miss any of our videos.