These Demons

Chapter Sixteen

"Who wants to know that?" I snarl and throw a condescending look at the person in my room.
"I have to show you around," the man explains while stepping closer, but I scoot back.
"Believe me, I don't want to either," he chuckles while I debate whether I should be nice or an asshole.
The guy standing way too close to my bed is about my age, has medium length dark hair, bright eyes, a slim figure and a bunch of tattoos on his body that make him a little less unlikable, but I still want him to leave.

"What if I refuse?" I want to know crossing my arms and the guy shakes his head in a way that expresses he probably thinks I'm completely braindead.
"If you ever want to leave this room and get at least a tiny part of your dignity and privacy back, you better do what you're supposed to," he advises.
"But I'll be gone in 70 hours anyways," I counter, making him raise his brows.
"You're a 5150?" he asks surprised.
I remember that number from the doctor, but don't react.
"Why?" the intruder wants to know as casually as if we were talking about the weather.
"Why do you want to know that?" I question because I'm not here to talk to anyone about anything. It's my business and mine alone.

"When you've been here for a while, you need to figure out some way to entertain yourself. Tragic and crazy stories from newbies are always good." Well, at least he's honest. "But seriously, even if they let you out after your three days, three days of hardcore surveillance can drive you crazy, man."
Sighing, I slowly and unwillingly get up from my bed. "Fine," I mumble and face him. "Let's get this over with. But I won't tell you anything about myself."
"Not even your name?"
"Andy," is all I say, not taking the hand he offers to me. "Kellin," he responds. What a weird name.

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