7 revisions and I still don't have a plot. I have a storyline, but not a location or plot. ;-; I need help deciding.

1.

I don't remember my childhood. Nor do I remember family, friends, or where I am from. All I know is that the white walls surrounding me look like they're closing in every moment I blink.

My first few memories can only reach so far. The farthest I can think back to is when I had arrived. Anything beforehand is fuzzy, and if I try to hard my head will begin to hurt. I remember the cold feeling of metal tight on my skin before being dragged inside. I remember how they prodded my skin with sharp shiny objects and how they asked me so many questions. Including how I didn't answer a single one. I remember that day so distinctly, it still burns in the back of my mind.

The daily routine is simple and easy to follow. Wake up when the bell rings, then Nurse Anabelle would bring me my medicine and food. I would then spend the rest of my day staring at the white walls. Studying every crevice and crack to find a way out. The room itself was empty besides a wooden desk where I eat; its corners rounded. As well as a plain metal bed with rough white covers. On a rare occasion, I would receive a book. Years ago, when I first came here, Anabelle taught me to read. Once I'm done, it's taken away. Though I'm always giving a new one I haven't read. After the second bell, I receive food and the lights are turned off after sometime for the night. Until the bell rings again for the lights to turn on; but some days are different than the others.

Sometimes a male doctor will come in and question me. Asking how I was doing or if I felt any different. I would never answer, much to his frustration. A nagging sense told me I would be better off to keep silent. He'd give up the fourth question, leaving me to sit in silence for long hours until the next bell.

2.

Los Angeles has gone downhill in the past few years. Technically it's becoming greater for the rich the higher they build, and worse for the poor who can't afford high-class levels in the skyscrapers. For the ones who couldn't get an apartment, like me, had the roughest life. Constantly freezing from the lack of sunlight blotted out from the skyscrapers and connecting hallways.

My mother always told me I was different from the people around us. From when I helped others despite our situation, to never fighting or back talking higher-ups like most of the homeless population. I never saw it until she left me. One day she just vanished from my life, leaving me to fend for myself. I was one of the luckier orphans who could escape this hell. Annabelle had found me weeks after being on my own, voiceless and starving. She became my guardian angel, taking care of me until she could no longer keep me at her home. Whenever I need help or a place to hide I go to her.

It was around nightfall when I arrived at her small apartment up on the 15th floor. It was in the nicer parts of the inner city, and where all the middle-class families lived. The old oak door with a brass knob was still there; even though she always says she'll remove it one day. I knocked three times and paused, before knocking twice more. It was our own code so we know it's each other. Annabelle opened the door slowly, the chain lock tightening to stop the door from opening wider. She saw me and close the door, opening it all the way once it was unlocked. Before I could step in she pulled me in, hastily shutting the door behind her.

I went to sign a question, not even getting the first movement in before she grabbed my hand and limped into her living room.

"I recorded something you should see. Sit."

How should this story begin????? 1 or 2???