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I love abandoned buildings. They're like a time capsule. It's really a great hobby, I don't know why more do it. Tonight I find myself in an asylum on the other side of the state; I drove far to get here.

The door is locked, of course- wait. No it's not. Odd. Shame, too, I thought I was going to lock-pick tonight. It's an odd pleasure of mine; it formally begins the night's discovery. Oh well. Moving on.

This place is so... white. Well, obviously. But still. It's surprisingly white. The building doesn't seem so abandoned, only because it's so pristine. Like someone cleaned it this morning. Most abandoned buildings are filthy; I guess this was kept in such tip-top shape, and it only closed a month ago.

Might as well start here. A month ago crazy people were lying down on that couch. Unbelievable.

"Oh, it's very believable." I'm hearing things. Sometimes this happens when I go in abandoned buildings, so I'm not startled. I project what they would have said onto the scene.

"Are you?" And that TV... I wonder what they watched.

"Channel 3." The couch is comfortable.

"MY SEAT MY SEAT MY SEAT MY SEAT" I jump straight up. That shriek was painful. My ears are ringing.

"You just don't take that seat. But you're new, so we'll let it slide."

I need to get it together. "That's a pretty one, that is... I call dibs."

I feel an unholy chill run down my spine. "Sorry, did I spook you?"

I really need to get it together. "You may as well stop telling yourself we're fake."

"We're as real as... well. We're at least a little real."

"What will it take for us to prove it to you? We've been... dying for a new friend."

Fresh air. That's what I need. "Oh, it's not that way."

"Door's locked, anyway. We've been trying to get out for weeks - won't work."

"Stop it! All of you! Jesus Christ!"

"Were we just talked to?"

"I think we were."

"Looks like someone believes."

I just yelled at voices in my head.

"We're more than that. And you know it."

"Stop it! Shit. Just leave me alone."

"We've been so lonely lately, though."

"Life gets boring."

"None of you are real. This isn't happening."

"If this isn't happening, then why are you experiencing it?"

"And why does it feel real?"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" I keep screaming for about a minute. The voices stop. I get up to leave.

"That's no way to make a first impression."

I sink to my knees. "How is this happening?"

"It's just what is. Don't freak out."

"You're being very melodramatic."

"Isn't that a bit redundant?"

"What?"

"Very melodramatic; melodramatic implies too much drama. Very is not needed."

They're... bickering?

"Well who died and made you king?"

"All of us!"

"Oh, yeah."

"Am I... dead?"

"No."

"Are... you?"

"Kind of. It's hard to explain."

"No. This isn't real. You're all just a bunch of crazies. That's why you're in this place."

"We're not the only ones in here."

"What do you mean?"

"So are you. And you're the one hearing all these voices. Come on, get up. You can have my bed. Right over here... that's good. Yes. The doctors come during the day; the first meeting's a real killer!"