All usual disclaimers apply.

*-~*

Small snow flakes were starting to slowly twirl down, covering the ground with a white layer that expanded itself all across the gardens. It seemed peaceful; beautiful even. In the distance, he saw how a gray rabbit peeked out from behind the dead branches of a small bush and how it hesitantly made its way towards a tree; leaving its paw prints in a trail. Touching the glass of the window, he felt just how cold it was outside. How the cold wanted to creep itself in through the windowpane. Sighing, he removed his hand from the glass and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his black Adidas windbreaker jacket that matched his pants. Turning around, he leaned against the wall that was next to the window and leaned his head back. "Why do I have to be here.? You know I won't cooperate."

Lisa Waltham, his therapist, was sitting on a couch. She had a note pad on her lap while her black pen was tucked behind her left ear. Her semi curly light brown hair was tied in a pony tail, but three free strands of hair were resting on the side of her face. She had dark green eyes and her skin was very slightly tanned. With simple sneakers, like the ones she had on, she was around 5'9 and her jeans and sweater showed her slim body figure. With a small smile, she shook her head slightly and said, "You don't "have" to be here, Mr. Johnson."

"But if I'm not, I make 'no progress'." He looked towards her and shook his head slightly. "And why do you call me 'Mr. Johnson'? I always.figured that therapists used the first names."

"Would you like that? It depends on the patients."

Dwayne shrugged and looked out the window, silent. He could feel how the therapist was watching him and examining his every move. Her eyes seemed to be glued onto his expressions so she could figure out a sensitive spot that she could reach in order for him to start talking. But he wasn't. Just like his nickname, he was being a rock and he didn't even care if she noticed or not. When he heard her get up and go to her desk, he turned to her and walked to a couch and sat down. "So.when can I go back to my room?"

Ignoring the question, Lisa leaned back against her chair, smiling. "So how is it that you want to be called? Dwayne?" When she saw Dwayne shrug, she smiled.

Rolling his eyes, Dwayne looked towards the window. "I'm not a little kid who you can lure in with a little 'Hi, I want to be your friend' conversation. It doesn't work that way."

"Then how does it work?"

"You're the shrink here: You're supposed to know. Look, why don't we just say that you.got me to open up. You'll get your little paycheck, and I'll be fine in my room."

Smiling, Lisa shook her head. "Things don't work *that* way, either." She watched him, silent. His pain could be felt without even talking to him. It was something that he was carrying with him and that, obviously, he wouldn't let go. Not soon, at least, and she knew that it wouldn't be easy. As she watched him only looking towards the window, she stood and sat down on the couch next to him, not holding her note pad anymore. Maybe that would make Dwayne more at ease, and let him open up more easily. "Would you like to go outside? Go for a walk instead of being here?"

Dwayne shook his head and simply answered, "I don't go out."

"But you like the snow, right? I've noticed that you've barely taken your eyes off of the window."

"For all you know, I like windows."

Lisa couldn't help but smile at that, and she leaned back. "Wow, then I'd have to say that you'd be the first that I know who likes to just look at the windows."

Silence followed for a while, and Dwayne could feel Lisa's eyes stare at him, still studying him. He couldn't understand why she couldn't just leave him alone. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be in this asylum to begin with.

He didn't even want to live.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate everyone's efforts to make him better, but he just didn't want to get better. That was the truth, and he just wanted everyone else to understand that and get on with their lives and leave him alone. He didn't notice as tears slowly started to make their way out of his eyes and started a familiar trail down his cheeks and he couldn't stop himself from talking in a very low voice, "My.son loved the snow." Turning to her, he didn't see pity in her eyes. She was the very first person who could see him cry without giving him a sympathetic and apologetic look before telling him that everything would be ok. And, because of all this, he was taken aback by it. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he turned to the window again. "We were coming back from skiing.my family and I, you see."

Even if she didn't show the sympathy on the outside, she *was* sympathetic for his situation. She had known a few details because of the explanations said on his file, but other than that, Dwayne hadn't 'opened up' before. Ever. Not even in the hospital where he had been. After handing him a tissue, she leaned back against her chair. "How old was he?"

"He was barely going to turn five. In February. He was my only son.my only child." Looking down at his hands, he stopped talking for a while as the tears ceased from falling. "I don't.want to talk anymore."

Lisa nodded slightly. "Alright. You did some progress today, Dwayne." She smiled reassuringly at him and stood when he did. "You did very well."

Nodding in response, he started walking out and left without saying anything else. He had made progress? By shedding a few tears and saying a few words? Shaking his head, he made his way to his room and closed the door behind him. When he did, though, he felt how his energy was leaving from his body and how the tears he had tried to keep inside were starting to choke him. Sliding down to the floor and blocking the door, his eyes would watch the snow fall and twirl just outside his window. Outside, where life still went on, even if he wanted to stop it.

He didn't want it to go on.

*

The nurse had brought his dinner but, as usual, he didn't eat it besides from a spoonful or two. But dinner had passed a while ago, now it was time to be asleep. The clouds had moved from the gloomy sky and a few stars had started to appear, illuminating the night. A half moon was also in full view, and it had stopped snowing a while ago. All in all, it was peaceful outside. The only sounds he could hear was a small humming that came from the heater, but he wasn't paying attention to anything. The only thing he was doing was staring at the wall as he lay there, motionless.

A small and faint chuckle was heard and steps were heard as, faintly, the creaking of the rocking chair started being heard as well and, in the darkness, only a shadow was seen rocking back and forth on the chair. "How was therapy today, DJ?"

Dwayne didn't move, knowing he had been there all along.

He always was.

"Made improvement."

The rocking stopped at that phrase. Improvement? No, that was impossible. Not the Dwayne Johnson that came to this same hospital two or so months ago. Steps were heard again, but this time they got close before the shadow stood at the foot of the bed. The voice, instead of being low and whisper- like, now turned into a sneer, "'Improvement'? Oh really. What, you're going to start spilling your guts from now on? You're going to tell that shrink about everything that you're thinking. Everything you feel?"

Dwayne paid no attention to the change of voice. He just realized that he was starting to get cold and, because of that, he held the blanket closer to him. "No. Just because I talked once, it doesn't mean that I'll always talk."

"Uh-huh. That's what you say now. She's like all the other doctors, Dwayne, don't let her lure you into their traps. You'll end up caught in this place forever anyway. You will never see anything from outside until the damn day that you die, you understand? Those bastards will just keep you here forever until you rot." When Dwayne didn't answer nor moved, the sneering was louder. "Dammit, didn't you hear me?"

Throwing the covers aside, Dwayne got up and went towards the window, but instead sat on the rocking chair. "Will you *ever* leave me alone? I don't care. I don't care about anything. Nothing. Why can't anyone understand?"

A small ironic laugh was heard. "A few days ago you were almost swearing that you would get out of this place. You don't remember that?"

"A lot of things change. Especially in a few days."

"Yeah? Yeah, you're right, you know? A lot of things can change in just a few days. Hell, for all you know, you could be out of here in a few days too. If you keep talking, you'll be back out there in a few days, all alone in the big world. Without a home to go to. Without anyone waiting for you."

Silence was the only thing heard for a few more minutes. Not even the creaking of the chair was heard; even Dwayne was sitting still as he looked towards the window. No voices anymore were heard. No more one-sided arguments were heard either. No noises at all. Everything was completely silent.

It seemed like the silence just kept expanding itself. Suddenly, Dwayne was overtaken by shivering, but he didn't want to go back to bed anymore. As if a gust of cold wind had suddenly gotten inside the room and had replaced all the warmth that the heater had brought.

The room was cold, just how he felt inside.

After what seemed like forever, Dwayne finally sighed and turned around; his mouth open as if he was about to talk. He looked around, frowning slightly, before sitting back on the chair, turning once more to the window.

The shadow was gone.