Thinking about being kidnapped and put in a sterile white room all alone with like an iv in my arm. It's like a feeding tube, so I never have to be fed. I have a catheter and poop bag (in a very sterile hospital-like way) so that I never have any reason to leave, interact with anyone, or do anything. I can't take them out because whoever put them in will just let me starve and wouldn't provide a bathroom, so I just have to let it happen. On rare times, I do see someone they are clinical, almost sadistic. Never address me, never use my name, just "the subject" or "it."
A week goes by till a new person comes in. I know I should be just as scared of them as the scientist. Even more so after explaining that this is all their doing, but someone is finally talking to me, and for some reason, I feel safe and calm when they are around. It scares me not to have control over my emotions, but it is eclipsed by the artificial feelings that I realize have been coming through the iv. 
I get a visit regularly. 
They are always so lovely to me. 
They bring me real food. 
They are oh-so gentle with me. 

They are the only thing that brings me joy.

That's how they like it. 

Soon it becomes a treat to see them even knowing what I know. I have no choice but to take what I can get to keep from losing myself to isolation and depression. (at least more than I already have). When I am bad, when I talk of the outside world, of my life before them... 
Well, they may be gentle most days, but they don't tolerate disobedience. After, I don't see them for days, forced to endure the sadistic doctors alone. So I let them train me to feel love for them. Finally, I learn to want them to love me.
After an eternity, I am let out of the cell. (they tell me I'm done) I don't run because my master is with me. There is nothing to go back to anyway. I know because master told me
When I am bad or talk about my past self, I am punished by being put back in my cell alone for an undetermined amount of time. I am hooked back up to everything and feel the artificial emotions flowing through me again. But that is nothing compared to the PTSD-induced panic and fear of solitude that chills me to the core.