Waylon didn't belong here, well, he didn't think he belonged here. Everyone here was crazy and sick. He sighed, doing a sudoku book in the cafeteria. Guards and nurses watched over the patients. He hadn't been here very long, only a few weeks. He didn't know anyone by name, only what they had done. And honestly, it frightened him. He wasn't sick or deranged, he wanted to go home to his loving wife. Oh wait, he shot her. Oops! He didn't even remember doing it, but she survived, so, honestly that's a point in his favor. The man shook his head as he ate some of his peaches. He stood out, he was short and thin, everyone else here was so much larger than him, he always felt like he had to be on edge at all times. So he wouldn't get stepped on by accident. whensthewedding