Josh didn't know which month it was at the moment. He didn't know the day of the week, or even the time anymore. Once you'd been here long enough, the days melted together and it was almost as if time had stopped forever, and your life would be stuck on these moments forever. A loneliness accompanied this change, and it wasn't welcome in his mind, but it didn't seem to want to leave. He had been acquainted with a few more of the other patients, but as always he kept out of their way, not wanting to make any sort of a friend in a place like this. There had been that girl, Zebby, and he'd thought she was really cool. He considered her a friend, but he hadn't seen her in weeks. You'd think you'd be running into people all the time given the size of the place, but it was actually a rare occurrence to stumble upon someone else that wasn't a guard. He almost believed they kept it this way on purpose, so that escape plans could not be thought over.

But it wasn't exactly like there was more than one way out of the wretched place. There was only about two windows with thick steel bars blocking them from being opened, and even with their protection, guards were always near. The front exit was always guarded, and more heavily than the rest of the place seeing the violence of some of the new patients. Josh remembered the first time he'd been cursed with the 'luck' of having to enter through the metal doors that led to this prison of an asylum.

He was incredibly bored, and even the anti-social teenager just wanted to be around someone that wasn't looking to lock him up in one of the cells for the night... again. So he got the guard to unlock the door to his room and yawned as he made his way over to the lounge and flopped down in one of the couches, stretching out on it and lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. He was wearing a dark red shirt and black jeans, nothing special. As usual, he wore his black studded belt, and wristbands hid the bruising on his wrists the handcuffs had caused.

Josh's last attack had been earlier that day, because even though he was trying to keep himself alive, some of the guards just lived to piss him off. And the fact that Steven was almost always there egging his blackouts on was definitely no help. He could still feel the weakness, though it was fading, and the skin on his left arm was red in an area from where they'd roughly stabbed the needle into it. Thank god he was practically unconscious when they did that, because he would panic otherwise. He was terrified of needles, and though he never told anyone, some things were hard to hide. Apparently he just growled at the one wielding the needle when he was blacked out, though of course he'd never witnessed it himself.

When the door opened, he didn't turn toward it, figuring it was just some new patient or something. The regulars were usually spending most of their time in the cells or their rooms for 'bad' behavior, so he never really expected anyone he knew to come in. He yawned and sighed to himself.

He jumped slightly when a familiar voice called his name, then couldn't help but to smile slightly in relief. It had been so long... he'd almost worried that they'd killed her! He slid into a sitting position on the couch so she could sit beside him, greeting her with a grin. Heck, he might not be a friendly guy, but there was something refreshing about having a friend when you were doomed to life in a nuthouse. "Zebby! Fuck, haven't seen you in ages! How are you and Kelsie?"