I sat there, waiting. For what, I hadn't known. Anything would suffice. It was another one of THOSE nights. It was as beautiful as the suburbs in which I lived was going to get, yet I had no one to share it with. On these nights, I tended to be very depressed. I stared at the box on the wall.

THIS WAY TO THE GREAT EGRESS

Break glass in case of overwhelming despair.

The glass window of the wooden box had been shattered, and in millions of bits on the floor. The gun the case once held was nowhere to be found. I remembered why this was, though though the memory was slightly fogged by a series of very strange events.

I continued sitting. It was going to be a long, depressing, lonely night. Unless of course... I smiled. Well, the best friend I had, Squee, lives next door. What time was it? I looked around for the tiny alarm clock. After a few minutes of rummaging, I found it. The tiny, battery powered box read 10:30

Squee might be up this late. I really hoped he was, I didn't want the night to be another depressing, suicidal one like all the others like this were. So, I began down the torture chambers. I walked around a while, until I came across a stone-brick wall. I pulled away the loose bricks, and let myself in.

I looked around the dark basement, and began walking up the wooden stairs. I slowly opened the door, as to not make much noise. Not like Squee's horrible excuses for parents would notice. I continued creeping around. I went up some stairs until I found little Todd Casil's Room. I slowly opened the door as to not wake him if he was asleep.

I slowly crept inside. The ragged blanket was... quivering. It was obvious that Squee was under it. Poor thing. I stood over the bed, looking down on the trembling child. I crouched next to him and gently pulled back the worn sheets. His eyes were shut as hard as possible, at least it looked like. It was, once again, obvious that he was terrified. Jesus, this kid is really subtle.

"Squee" he mumbled. Yep, he's awake.

"It's just me" I whispered. He began shaking even harder. After a while of laying there, shivering, he slowly opened one eye, then the other. It was hard to not feel sorry for him. He sat up, still holding his blanket up to his face.

"W-what do you want?" he said softly.

"I wanted to talk. I was a bit sad." I uttered, equally quiet. He clutched onto the bear that I despised so much. I knew the boy treasured that thing, but I didn't want him to develop the same hallucinations I have. God knows he doesn't need them.

"Oh..." he said, backing up to the headboard of the cheap, wooden bed.

"So... It's a nice night, Isn't it?" I said. He quickly nodded.