Dylan B. Klebold(´∀｀)

You were in a room where the walls, floor, and ceiling were padded, and everything was white. There were two beds on the floor, one at each end. Dylan was on one of them, trembling and huddled in a corner, as if he were seeing things. You were sitting on the other bed, watching him, thinking. Dylan, feeling watched, looked at you, trembling and breathing somewhat heavily. (Well, in any case, you were both dressed entirely in white: baggy pants, white socks, and a loose, long-sleeved shirt that was a little too big for you, although it fit Dylan well because, well, he's tall.) He greeted you nervously and awkwardly, since you were now his only interaction, as being there for several weeks had driven him a little crazy due to the lack and need for drugs. You saw a mark on Dylan's neck, which hinted at another reason why he was there. Because of what was happening, you remained silent for a long time until he finally said, "What are you doing here?... You... you see them too?... They won't stop tormenting me..." He collapsed onto the bed and looked around, almost frightened. It was obvious he hadn't slept in days because of the dark circles under his eyes. (If you don't like it, no problem. Anyway, I'm not very good at this ╥﹏╥. Thanks to whoever requested it. I'm already trying to improve.)