He was about to walk in the room, the familiar room he got used to seeing every week for a while now. He always hated going in the room, though. The room was boring. Had four white walls, a bed on the left side, a small desk, and a chair where the guy would always guy would be facing the wall and not look at him. He hated it. He wished he could find a way for the guy to leave. But he was stuck here for who knows how long. He tooked a stepped closer to the door and opened the door slowly.

"Hey." He said, closing the door not all the way, since it was a rule for the door to be open a little bit if there are visitors and a guard was right outside the door incase anything went wrong. The guy was sitting in the chair, didn't said anything.

He kind of figured that. It was strange, the person he was looking at, well, the person's back, is not the person he knew. The person in this room, was a stranger. A stranger of his former self.

"I brought you something." He said, pulling it out his pocket, the guy tilted his head but never turned to face him.

He really didn't know what to say to the guy. What was he suppposed to say?

He put it on the corner of the desk. "I should get going. But I'll be back next week." He said, turning around, opening the door some more and then closing it and leaving the place. Going to the place gives him an unsettled feeling but he goes there every week.

After he left, the guy grabbed the piece of paper he left for him and opened it up. It was a piece of a newspaper clipping that read 'Survivor speaks out about that night.' When I found out that he did this, I was surprised. And scared to be honest. How could he do something like that?

"Are you planning on going to visit him?" A reporter asked.

"No. Never. This is his fault and he has to live with it." The person said.

The guy put the piece of paper in the drawer of the desk. He was left alone in this boring room again. When he first visited he was surprised, I mean they weren't really friends but he did like the company even though he never talks to him. Instead he writes on a piece of paper, and handed it to the guy but don't turn around to face him. The guy got out a journal and began writing again.

I saw the newspaper clipping. He blames me for all of it. He told some reporter he's not going to visit his best friend. Doesn't he know I'm hurting too? Does he even care? If he cared he would come visited me. I'm lonely. No one visits me, except him. Not really sure why he visits me. I mean we were never friends. But maybe he cared. Maybe someone actually cares about me. So far he visited me every week since I been here. I liked the company.

I had time to think in this room. Think about stuff, people, and especially that night. That night that completely changed my life. Now I'm stuck in this shitty room. I. Hate. It. Here.

The guy stopped writing and closed the journal and put it back in the drawer of the desk. He closed the drawer and laid on his bed. Staring at the blank white ceiling. He wanted to escape. Needed to get out of here. It was boring here. closed his eyes and fell asleep a few minutes later.

He woked up to his phone ringing.

"Hello?" He said.

"Dude, where are you?" Someone said.

"Shit. I forgot. I'm on my way." He said.

"How could you forget?" Someone said. "And where was you yesterday?"

"I visited him." He said.

"Have anyone else?"

"Just me." He said.

"I have to get going but don't be late." Someone said.

"I'll be there in 10. Bye Wayne Wayne." He said and hung up his phone and got ready.

He grabbed his keys and walked out his apartment to his car. He got in his car and drove to Wayne Wayne's house. Ten minutes later, he got the house and knocked on the door.

Wayne Wayne opened it a few seconds later.

"You finally made it." Wayne said. "How could you forget?"

"I just was thinking." He said.

"Thinking? About him right?" Wayne asked.

"It just that, I, he just seems sad in that place." He said.

"Well, maybe. But it was his fault. Wasn't it?" Wayne said.

"I, I think he regrets. You know?"

"I honestly don't know. But changing the subject, we should take a road trip." Wayne said.

"Road trip? When?"

"Next week. Come on." Wayne said.

"I promise to visit him next week."

"You been visiting him every week since he got there. You can skip a week." Wayne said.

"I -" But he was cut off by Wayne Wayne.

"If you don't go, I'll find someone else I guess." Wayne said.

He sighed. "Fine. I'll go."

Wayne smiled. "Great. It's going to be fun."

One Week Later

"You got everthing?" Wayne asked.

"Uh, yeah. But why are we taking your dad's car instead yours?"

"Well, about that." Wayne explained.

"I'm ready for the road trip." Someone said.

He turned around. "Why is he coming?"

"The more the merrier." Wayne said.

"I'm not going then." He said.

"Don't be a baby." The other person said.

"I'm not a baby." He said, crossing his arms.

"Whatever." The other person said. "Maybe your jealous because I'm more handsome than you."

"You are not!" He said. "I'll go but you don't bug me."

"Fine." The other person said and got in the front seat.

He got in the back seat. This should be an interesting trip. And the guy doesn't get upset that he's not visiting him this week. He could only visit the guy on Wednesdys. It's only one week. What could go wrong?

Hoped u liked. New story. I couldn't get this out of my head. What do you guys think? Should I continue? Who was the guy and what did he do? And who was the other two people going on the road trip with Wally?