After Case 9 in mystery room.

If you have a minute I'd like to tell you a bit about myself.

The first thing you need to understand is that I am alone. I've been alone for a pretty long time now. I'm used to it. I'm content.

Before I became more or less a hermit, I found that I had two passions in life. One was criminals. Even today when I find I can't relate to others, I can still stand in front of a criminal and make them admit to their evil deeds. The irony is strong enough to taste.

It doesn't taste good.

In case you're wondering, my second passion was a girl named Lucy Baker. But I'll get to that later.

I generally face the same day-to-day problems as every other person, except that when every other person gets stuck, they have their friends and associates to back them up. I don't.

I know that you don't want to hear me describe my admittedly less than fascinating lifestyle, so instead, I'll describe my day with a much more interesting allegory.

I used to find joy in the company of my friends. Now, I only have the company of myself...

My attention is stolen by a salmon pink square at the other end of the room. I want to be it's friend more than anything I've ever wanted. I decide to approach it. It does not react to my approach. Does it not notice me? Or is it only pretending not to notice me?

Up close I see that the pink square is actually a door. I think that we can still be friends anyway. I decide to move through it to a room I have not seen before. As I step through the door it disappears behind me.

I began to wonder what would happen if the door disappeared before I reached it. I felt confused and a bit tingly But mostly confused... Why am I here? What if I can't get back? I briefly attempt to think of something to think. Nothing worthwhile emerges.

In the next room there is a large gap in the floor. It seems to go down forever. As I notice there is no going back I give myself a run up to propel myself across the space. Somehow I have made it, and I find myself proud of (and possibly surprised) by my ability to leap over harrowing gaps.

Internally, I visualise an over-excited man yelling "Checkpoint!"

I haven't talked to anyone lately, the one called Potty rarely speaks and if he does it's only insults, calling me pathetic and body snatcher. At least I can solve 'most' of my own problems.

Yet another room is ahead of the next door, this time there are metal bars blocking my path. I am dissatisfied. Then I am grateful of my above average ability to work alone as I unlock the bars that slide up out of my way.

In the next room I notice a strange white forcefield. I become gradually more and more curious. I find myself unable to comprehend the purpose of this forcefield. It doesn't seem to block me at all.

There is another in the next room it is blue this time and it doesn't allow me to pass through. Understanding the forcefield I ask Potty to help me.

'The forcefield won't let me pass through because it's for you. White for me, blue for you'

Unwillingly he helps me not wanting to stay in the room forever.

Again another room. I stare at a worthless large staircase and reflect on my past struggles. Luckily for me, no one was watching me suffer to climb the large steps to the door.

I search for reasons why I don't desire companionship. I settle on avoidance of the issue. I can clearly get by without others anyway. I find myself unable to leave the question alone. Why can I not be with people?

I instantly notice that this room is similar to a previous one, and almost feel cheated until I realise that my previous tactic will not work again. It doesn't take me long to realise I'm going to need some timing to get through here. I've gotten used to the idea of solving mental problems, but I still enjoy a test of my physical abilities here and there.

I think back to the day that Lucy and I met. Our paths converged, and suddenly we were a team. That was before I was as reclusive as I have become today, so I had not learned to truly multitask yet. That talent grew out of simply necessity.

Her approach was amusing although my reply was a bit harsh. The connection was instant, and unmistakable. A team.

Mutual. Perfect. I wasn't ready to let it go.

When we faced a problem, we would solve it together. Today I find myself solving the same problems alone.

I was under-appreciative. Plain and simple. I didn't understand how much I needed her. How much she needed me.

It was perfect. Everything. It was all perfect. I helped her and she helped me. Mutual.

I never expected the end to come so quickly. I found myself crushed by guilt. I didn't leave my apartment for days.

But she was gone.

And now I find myself alone. I can't handle talking to people anymore.

I grudgingly consider how the ability to start over from a different perspective would have been helpful earlier in life.

Perhaps I could have let Lucy not meet me in the first place...

And like this, I continue...

What? Don't leave yet. I have more to say. I really do.

...Are you really leaving?

Psychologists report-

'I've been tasked with psychoanalysing Alfendi after his mental breakdown. In general, he recalls his life very accurately- the things he says line up with all of his records.

The first problem is that he doesn't seem to remember any of my visits. I've talked to him once a week for the past eight years, and he always tells me the same things as if we have never met before.

He describes himself as a loner, and this makes a whole lot of sense, as he had been kept in solitary confinement for the duration of his stay at the hospital.

He always briefly talks about his life, and eventually gets into the story of how he lost a loved one, Lucy.

He understands that she has died, and he certainly feels at least somewhat responsible, but he doesn't recall that he murdered her. She was found buried in the backyard in a salmon pink package- Evidently it was the only box large enough for use as a coffin that he could find. Also of note were two blue and white flowers that he planted next to the makeshift grave.

He considers her death to be the reason he doesn't talk to people anymore. I suppose that in a way, he is correct.

This will be my final report on Alfendi. I don't find any reason to believe that he will recover from his current state of severe mental illness, and he is far too dangerous to himself and others to allow his release.'

...The shrink leaves and suddenly I have no one to talk to anymore...