You're happy here. Stop glaring at me and listen for once in your life. You are happy here. You were miserable before, I watched you, I saw how horribly sad you were, so don't try to act like its not true. You're not miserable anymore.
Now you're not always smiling, I know that. Sometimes you smile, usually little smiles when you're in your cute little drugged out haze. But even when you've been good and you're allowed to have your wits about you, you're not miserable anymore. You're focused. Determined, maybe. I have given you a purpose, and you should be grateful.
I know that for now your purpose is... I don't know, I assume escape? Maybe just surviving what I'm doing to you? But that's still a purpose, and it gives me something to work with.
How long do you think, before I can redirect all those big feelings? How long until you decide your best chance out is by pleasing me? How long until you are thinking of ways to make me happy, forgetting that the point is supposedly escape? Soon enough I will be your purpose. And you'll see just how happy you can be.