John didn't get back to his room until late at night, because they had him sleep for most of the day.
When he was finally allowed to walk around, he walked over to the wall.
"Jane..?" He whispered.
"John?" He sighed in relief.
"Yeah. You're still awake? It's eleven at night." He slid down into the corner.
"I stayed up, waiting." She was sitting in the same position as him on the other side, almost asleep. "I nearly fell asleep."
"Thank God you didn't." He smiled.
"I saw people today, they tried to take me away from here, to some place they said I'd be happier."
"I went to one of those places once. I got sick there and had to come back." He recalled the time.
Red on the walls that wrote "Get me out of this place." Tried to get painted over, but never completed. Scratch marks on the walls, dirt in the cracks of the stone. The small bathroom in the corner had vomit in the shower and grime in the sink. He never used it, he never slept there. It wasn't so great.
"Is it miserable?"
"What's that mean?"
"Even worse than sad."
"Oh, then yeah."
John looked up at the clock, it was nearly eleven thirty, already.
"John..?"
"Yes?"
"I'm not miserable when I talk to you."
"Same here."
