It, indeed, was a strange set-up the cells were so carefully arranged in. In each cell: one small cot on the floor, a tiny bathroom in the upper right corner of the room, a sterile window on the heavy, padded-metal door. The high ceiling, the floor, and three out of the four walls were all creamy white and thoroughly cushioned. Yes, all but one wall was padded. That was the wall on the left, it was made from Plexiglas, and it was a window to the cell next to you. I always wondered why they did that. I guess they thought that isolation made people grow even more psychotic. Of course, they were correct in every aspect of their theory. But the girl whose cell the clear wall allowed me to peer into was…. unusual. And that's coming from me. That icy blue stare of hers, it is now forever engraved into my skull, burning at my eyes each time I remember the asylum.
I sat cross-legged on the small mattress provided in my cell, glancing quickly toward the cell next to mine. There she was, doing what she seemed to always be doing. She sat there, on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, shaking violently, staring at me with her huge, cold eyes, as shattered as Quarter Queen's arm. Those wide, unblinking baby blue eyes that could stare into your soul. Always so full of fear, and sadness. I looked above her head, gazing at her name and date of death. Astrid Kalmara- March 16, 2011. Quite a while longer to live, compared to the other patients I saw. She just kept on observing me, as she always did. She slept even less than I did, so the bags under her eyes were massive. I looked straight into the delicate, fragile eyes of the blonde-haired girl before me. I saw her pallid cheeks and ears turn a light shade of pink, like the color of cotton candy that didn't have nearly enough flavoring in it. Curious, I scooted a bit closer to the window. Astrid hugged her knees even tighter, and her jittering became more noticeable. My interest was piqued. I stood up and slunk to the invisible wall, her eyes following me all the while. I kneeled in front of where she sat in behind the pane of Plexiglas. She raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, no more than a millimeter, and lifted her head from where it lay slouched on her thighs. Her face was always blank: not just emotionless, completely void of feeling whatsoever. But not now. Now her mouth was slightly agape, just barely showing her clean, crooked teeth. She scooted timidly toward me, not getting up, just as I expected. But then something that wasn't so expected happened: She copied my stance. She got up onto her knees, every joint in her body creaking quietly as she did so. She put her hand on the Plexiglas, still twitching and shaking immensely. This was the first real movement I'd ever seen from her except to occasionally crawl into her bathroom, or pick up food. But even so, her eyes were still in their permanent glare, the stare that could break the heart of even the toughest man. But not mine. I guess that was a side effect of being L's former "successor". She just kept on coldly gazing at me, like a cat would. Her eyes rapidly scanned every inch of my face, before settling her pale orbs onto mine. She placed her other hand on the window. She closed her dull blue eyes, and inhaled deeply. Opening her eyes as she exhaled, she seemed to be preparing for something. I wondered bemusedly what she could possibly be so nervous about. I was ripped from my thoughts as she did something I had never seen her do. Something I truly believed she was incapable of.
She spoke.
Rigidly, clumsily, she said to me:
"I love you."
Yes, those wide, unblinking baby blue eyes that could stare into your soul. Always so full of fear, and sadness. And if you looked deeply enough, if you really searched for it, maybe, just maybe, a little bit of hope.