Simon looked at the sterile white of the psych-ward. Bright lights began to dim, this time of night. Eight O'Clock sharp, and the cold angelic walls began to fade slowly into a sense of dark.

Simon didn't know why it scared him. He was no stranger to walking in the dark.

The creaking and squeaking of his wheelchair was the only sound that let him know it wasn't a dream.

"...L-looks like… that time of day again…"

Simon craned his neck a little to the side to get a better look at his porter.

Brown, braided, and dually ponytailed hair. A pair of dark brown eyes. Eyes that felt like looking into two pools of visceral darkness. The mild and reserved features of her face only made Simon notice the eyes more. He felt like he was in a spaceship, looking out into space one morning, only to find no stars there. Two bag-laden pits leading to a void where no thing lived.

…

Madotsuki nodded, like she heard the question only distantly.

'It's terrible to be afraid of a friend's eyes, isn't it?'

He looked ahead of himself. The reflection of the hallway's furniture, like desks, empty wheeled medical beds, and rows of chairs against the wall.

"...Simon. You're sweating."

Eh? Ah! Simon raised his hand up to his forehead, and wiped. Indeed, he was having a cold sweat.

"I didn't… really notice. The hospital… walls. So clean, but it.."

Simon trailed off.

'It reminds me of hell.'

The chair glided noiselessly over the white seamless tiles. Simon found himself shaking, the thin white night robe that the hospital gave to him not doing a great job at keeping Simon warm.

A nurse walked out of one door and moved into the next.

The wheelchair made just the slightest sound of metal upon metal as it was piloted towards the room provided to Simon by the hospital.

Eventually, they found it. The door was thick, wooden, and almost a completely featureless rectangle.

"… Hey, Madotsuki. I… got a question."

Madotsuki paused in opening the door, one hand on the handle and one on the wall.

"...Yeah? What's up?"

The voids are staring at me again.

Simon turned his head away.

"...When you… dream..."

He looked back at the door.

"You told me you see doors just like this one, right?"

Madotsuki thought for a moment.

"Well, yes. More or less.

…

Why do you ask?"

Simon looked at his medical wristband.

"How do you..."

'Just say it, Simon. It's not that hard. Why is it so hard to speak? I can't say what I want to say since the accident. Why does my chest keep hurting so much? Why can't I think? Why is there this haze over everything?'

Simon summoned up the willpower to look her directly in her eyes. He felt his mind protest as he did so, but at least it gave him some sort of focus. Anything to remove this God-forsaken haze.

"How do you know behind this door isn't another dream? How can you tell the difference? … From when you're awake, or asleep."

Madotsuki blinked. Once, then after a while, twice. She looked up in thought.

"...That's a good question. Sometimes I can't, Simon. But if I had to pick one thing that tells me the difference..."

She looked back at him.

"...Well, I can't think of much. I guess I don't drink or eat as much in my dreams. And dreams are more fun, I think. I'd dream all the time, if I could. Wouldn't you?"

She wheeled Simon into the dark room, which lit up as if by magic as soon as they walked a few feet in. The motion sensor must have detected them. She set his wheelchair besides the bed, and brought some medicine back from a nearby table.

"… I… I don't agree, Maddy. My dreams… must be a lot different… from yours."

Simon looked down at his lap. Tears started welling up in his eyes.

"There's this fog over everything. It keeps following me in my dreams, Maddy. The… the fog, Maddy… I can't remember faces, people… and… and their names, and school lessons. It's like the fog from my dreams is… following me… And I'm having trouble telling… telling which is which."

Simon looked up at her, and her concerned face, which made him look back down at his lap again in shame.

"I… I'm afraid, Maddy. What happens when I start forgetting myself? What happens then?"

Madotsuki sat on the bed, looking at him, and then swooped him into a tight hug.

"Simon… That won't happen. I'll be here with you, and so will the rest of the hospital. I'll let the psychiatrist know in the morning, and we'll start doing memory games, okay? I won't let you forget a thing, if I can help it."

Simon hugged her back, crying into her shoulder, his breath heaving, muffled gasps erupting from his mouth after every exhale.

"I know I had so many friends, Maddy. I can't...ha-hah-huh… I can't remember what they looked like. I CAN'T REMEMBER WHAT THEY LOOKED LIKE!"

Madotsuki patted Simon's back.

"It'll be okay. I'm here for you. I'm not leaving you, Simon. I'm here for you."

I had a bit of a breakdown today. I told my medical porter a few things I maybe shouldn't have. I won't be so careless next time. I have to maintain myself, and have strength of mind, if I'm going to be able to recover. That's what Dr. Purnell told me, anyhow. I intend to follow his instructions as best I can.

I want to get better. I want to be ridden of this damned fog, shadowing every thought, every memory. Every feeling. There's this fog. I swear, it wasn't there before the accident. It just appeared, and now everything's losing detail. I saw a painting today. I think it was a… Van Gogh? Yes, it was, it was a Van Gogh painting. I love Van Gogh. His details and artistic vision are amazing. But I saw one of his paintings earlier today and all I could think of was "Hills". What the fuck is wrong with me? I want it to stop. I want the fog to stop. Even now, I stay up, at 2 AM, only because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of the fog getting me while I'm asleep, while my guard is down. I have the television on to keep me up. I don't know if it's making me feel better or worse.

I don't want to forget anything else. I really, really want to stay. I want to be here, wherever "here" is. I don't want to be nowhere.

Even the feeling of being tired, my eyelids are so heavy, now terrifies me. Because of the fog. I should sleep. I should go to bed so I can have some moment of clarity in the morning. Perhaps then I can think of a way to get rid of the fog.

I'm so tired.