Where am I? I asked myself. I looked around to see so many unfamiliar things. I was lying in bed but it definitely wasn’t mine. I was alone. I surveyed the room again trying to make sense of where I was. To my left, was another bed, which had appeared to have, been slept in the night before. As I lay there, I heard the doorknob turn and a figure entered the room. I sat up and then caught myself staring in his direction.
"Where am I? And who are you?" I asked.
"You mean you don’t know where you are?" he replied with a question.
He moved closer to me. He had blue eyes and blonde hair. His face seemed familiar enough and he spoke with an Irish accent. I couldn’t be in another country could I? No. I decided I wasn’t. I was still in the U.S.
"Where am I?" I asked again.
"Well. You just got here last night..."
I was getting really mad. All I wanted to know was where I was at.
"Will you please tell me where I am?"
"Well, since you’re insisting upon knowing. You’re in Western Institute for the Mentally Insane. They brought you in last night."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah. They woke me up bringing you in. I was sleeping sound when I heard them talking. Apparently you tried to overdose yourself."
I was stunned. I felt like crying. I never did anything. At least not that I remembered.
"What?"
"Hey, that’s just what I heard them say."
"I didn’t do anything. I swear."
"That’s what we all say," he replied and turned away from me.
I sat up and looked at my hands. They were bruised from something.
"I shouldn’t be here."
"Me either. I should be travelling the world with the group. I guess they thought I was the most expendable one. I shouldn’t be here either, but I am and there’s no way out."
Then I recognised him. Kian. Kian Egan from Westlife. I’d heard he’d quit the band but it was all to cover up for why he was here.
He walked over to the window and started to sing to himself.
"Goodbye to you my trusted friend
We’ve known each other since we were nine or ten
Together we’ve climbed hills and trees
Learned of love and ABCs
Skinned our hearts and skinned our knees..."
He put his face in his hands and I could see tears rolling down his face. I don’t think either of us were meant to be in this awful place. I got up and walked over to him.
"Are you ok?" I asked.
"No. Why do you think I’m here?"
"Maybe you’re like me. You’re not supposed to be here."
"You’ll stop believing that soon enough. By the way what’s your name? Seems as if we’ll be spending an awful lot of time together."
"Laura," I replied. "And you’re Kian, right?"
"Sadly, yes."
He gazed outside again. It was beginning to snow. Several kids walked by, obviously on their way to school. They looked up at us and pointed. I could just tell what they were talking about. I felt like the latest edition to the freak show.
"Get used to it," he said. "People walk by and laugh every day when they see us."
"Did you hear anything else they said?" I asked.
"Actually yes I did. They said that they couldn’t understand why you did it. Your mother and dad came in and were hysterical. ‘I don’t understand why Laura would ever do such a thing’ they said."
Damn, I thought. I’m asking some nut for information.

I was so frustrated. I had so many questions. Did I really do this? How long was I going to be here? When would I get to see my family again? I hoped I wouldn’t have to go through all these therapy sessions.
"You know something?" Kian asked taking me out of my thoughts.
"What?"
"You’re a lot prettier than my last roommate."
"Oh, thanks," I said kind of dejectedly. I felt terrible. I looked for a mirror and didn’t find one. I guess they didn’t have those kinds of luxuries here. I had to look the way I felt.
"Do I look ok?" I asked him.
"That’s the last thing to worry about when you’re here. You look fine except for that bruise under your eye. You shouldn’t beat yourself up like that girlie."
He ran his hand over the spot and pushed my hair away from my face. His touch sent chills through my body.
"I don’t know if this will make you feel any better, but we have some of the less serious problems in this place. You should see some of the people over on the other side."
"Oh. If you don’t mind me prying, why are you here?"
He didn’t seem to want to answer.
"You don’t have to answer me. I’m sorry."
"No. It’s ok," he said and still never answered my question.
It obviously caused him pain to even think of it, so I didn’t bother to ask him again.