One day, I�ll wake up without ice forming on my feet.

Next morning, usual routine. Get up, get cleaned and changed, get breakfast, watch the mould grow. Well, the last part�s optional but it�s the most interesting option we have here. I was surprised when a nurse waltzed in � without someone in tow.

�Mr Shinoda? A word, please,� she said, calmly, but she seemed a bit edgy. Nodding, I jumped off my bunk and followed her out. She shut the door to our room and spoke to me in a low voice.

�The last guy in your room � he�s a case. He won�t speak to anyone, so we figured putting him with a group of people could help him come out of his shell, you know? Please, do your best to make him feel at home.�

Like you can feel at home when you�re in a place because you�re a supposed loony.

�Will do,� I replied lightly. She smiled, then whizzed off and came back a few seconds later, pulling a sullen-looking man along behind her. I opened the door for her, and she pushed the guy in then made a sharp exit. Wincing at her abruptness I walked in and slammed the door � for the sake of slamming it. I studied our newest and last arrival thoughtfully.

The man was pale skinned, but I could see marks on his wrists, which I worked out were actually the edge of tattoos. He had dark eyes and bleached blonde hair, very short. A loop of silver metal caught my eye � his lip was pierced. I smiled.

�Hi there. Mike Shinoda. Joe Hahn�s in the middle, at the top, then Brad�s in the corner here. Underneath Brad is Phoenix, and this is Rob.�

The guy didn�t reply, just studied me with his dark eyes. I felt myself growing nervous � and half wondering if I�d suddenly sprouted an extra head or something. Then the guy glanced about, and pounced on the pencil I had sent flying across the floor when I�d followed the nurse. He gripped my hand, turning it so the palm was upwards. At first I didn�t get it, but then he began to trace letters out on the palm of my hand with the pencil.

�C� H� E� S� T� E� R. Chester? Is that your name?� I asked. The guy nodded.

�Well hi Chester,� I said, smiling. �The bunk under mine�s free, and the middle drawer of that chest of drawers on the right-hand side of the room.

Chester silently shuffled over to the chest of drawers and unpacked his clothes into the drawer. I couldn�t help but notice that all his tunics were long sleeved. Joe coughed politely and I glanced at the clock, then back to Chester.

�Ah, it�s just about lunchtime,� I said awkwardly, looking for an excuse to escape the room, which suddenly seemed all that much smaller for no apparent reason. Joe sat bolt upright and Brad slowly climbed off his bunk. Phoenix and Rob casually rolled off their bunks and stood, waiting. Chester was studying me with those dark eyes of him. And again, I felt nervous. Chester had a piercing gaze. �Let�s go get some food, eh?� I finished, then turned �I�ll lead you today, but after today, you�ll take turns guiding all of us to the cafeteria and back. It�s best you get used to this place, know your way around, y�know?�

�Good idea,� Rob said softly.

Lunch not worth noting. Joe made six wrong turns on the way back � and Chester corrected every single one before me or Brad could. Joe was both sore and embarrassed about it, still is actually. He�s got a piece of paper and a pencil, I presume he�s drawing. Phoenix and Rob appear to have vanished off the face of the planet � they�re exploring � Brad�s staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks under his breath, and Chester�s sitting on his bunk, back resting against the wall, not doing anything except sitting.

Joe finishes what he�s doing and puts the pencil down with a flourish.

�Mike,� he says, and I look up. He�s holding his sketch up to show me. I grin. He�s sketched the meadow our windows look out onto. I squinted at it for a moment before fishing out my glasses and putting them on.

�Nice,� I said.

�Thanks.� Joe held his sketchpad down below the side of his bunk. �Whaddya think, Chester?�

I had to lean over the side of my bunk to see Chester, but he just looked up and nodded. Shrugging, and getting a bit dizzy from all the blood rushing into my head, I pushed myself back onto my bunk.

�I wish I had more art supplies, instead of just a lousy pencil,� Joe said wistfully.

�Ask if you want, they encourage non-destructive hobbies,� Brad remarked absently. �Thirty-two��

�You already counted that one,� I pointed out, then continued �Yeah. There�s a library here too, you know, so you don�t get too mad having nothing to do.�

I heard sheets shift and realised they were Chester�s. Resigning myself to looking like an idiot again, I hung over the side of my bunk.

Chester looked upside down but it was actually I who was the wrong way up. His eyes focused on me, questioning me.

�Into books?� I asked. Chester nodded. �I could show you where to find the library if you like.�

For the first time since I�d met him, Chester smiled, an honest-to-God sincere smile. I took it as a yes and swung my upper body back onto my bunk. Without looking I climbed down and stood in front of Chester�s bunk.

�Well, how about now?� I offered. �Nothing else to do, after all.�

Chester slid off his bunk and I looked up at Joe and Brad. �I�m going to take Chester to the library, OK?�

�Sure,� replied Brad. �I�m gonna take Joe to see if we can get him some other art stuff.�

�Catchya later,� I replied, before gesturing for Chester to follow me and exiting the room. Chester trotted meekly along behind me.

We walked in silence for a short while, but then I decided to try to get him talking.

�So� How come you don�t speak? Is it a medical problem or something?�

Chester just ripped the back page out of my notebook. I was going to glare at him but then I realise he�s answering my question on it. I watched him write. He practically shoves the paper into my face, and I take it and quickly read his scribbled words:

It�s not medical. I can�t say why.

�How come?� I asked. Chester quickly takes the paper and scribbles a response beneath his previous words:

I can�t say. Please, just leave it there.

�OK, if it�s that big a deal to you�� I said, and quickly changed the subject. �Are those tattoos?� and I traced the line visible from beneath his sleeves. He flinched from my touch, but rolled up his sleeves to show me. He has matching tattoos on his wrists, a flame design in green and orange.

�Nice,� I said, and he rolled his sleeves up further to show me his upper arms. On one arm was a fish, which I recognised as a koi, on the other was the symbol of Pisces. Fire and water, I noted. Interesting.

�Nice designs,� I said. �I wouldn�t dare get stuff like that done, but I do like them.�

Chester wrote on the palm of my hand �THANK YOU� and rolled his sleeves back down. I decided to probe a little more.

�So� any family?� I asked him. Chester picked up the scribbly piece of paper and wrote yet more on it.

Yes, but I�d rather not talk about it.

�They put you in here, huh? Same here.�

They caused this. I doubt I can ever forgive them.

�I daresay they didn�t mean it.�

Not my family. THEM.

Chester was confusing me. His family hadn�t caused this, THEY had, I understood that much, but I had no clue as to who THEY were.

�Who are they?�

Chester�s run out of room and rips another page out of my notebook.

Nobody important. Are we nearly there yet?

The last sentence reminded me of a little kid on a long journey, and I grinned inwardly at the thought. �Nearly.�

Nothing much goes on in the library, and I�m sitting near a window waiting for Chester to choose something to read. He�s scanning the nearest bookcase of fiction, although I don�t know what he�s looking for or I�d offer to help. As it is I just sit here and watch him as his eyes scan the books on each shelf before dismissing them and moving on to the next shelf. I find myself wondering what we have in here � I�m not a library person normally. I let my eyes wander over the nearest shelf. I notice a few books up there but nothing really takes my interest. Chester, however, appears to have spotted something of interest. After a brief moment of reading the book � I assume he reads the first page or so to get an idea of the book before deciding if it�s worth it � he carries it over. I don�t really notice which book it is, just follow Chester to the desk to get it checked out, then we begin to walk back to our room.

Chester is leading the way, and he seems to know it perfectly. I look at him.

�Say, Chester? How do you know where you�re going? You�ve only been down here once, right?�

A hastily scribbled response is pushed under my nose.

I have a good memory. I can retrace my steps for some time if necessary. How long did it take you to learn your way around?

�A few months,� I admitted. He smiled.

I guess it�s just a skill I have.

�Guess so,� I replied. �And you can write and lead the way at the same time. Impressive.�

Chester once again wrote �THANK YOU� on the palm of my hand. I paused in the doorway for a moment, and then proceeded inside.

Joe appears to have got his art stuff, he�s sitting happily on Rob�s bunk sketching, I assume, Brad. Brad is sitting on Phoenix�s bunk, and Joe�s facing that way so I draw my conclusion from that. The back of my neck itches and I wonder why. Phoenix and Rob aren�t back yet.

�Where�ve the others gone?� I asked. Joe shrugs.

�I haven�t seen them.�

We see them a few seconds later though, when they re-enter the room looking sheepish, a nurse following behind them.

�We got lost,� Phoenix said before we could ask. The nurse smiled amusedly and walked out without a word.

�You�ll be wanting your bunks back then,� Joe said, more of a statement than a question. Chester�s already on his bunk and reading the book he�s just got from the library.

�Ah, it can wait,� Rob replies, noticing what they�re doing. �Can I see?�

�The basics are just about done,� Joe replies, turning the sketchpad so Rob can look. I can see too, from here. It�s a pretty nice sketch.

�I�m gonna take a shower,� I say. �See you guys in a bit.�

�Bye,� Rob replies, sounding distracted. Phoenix, Joe and Brad nod, and Chester�s behind me anyway so I don�t know if he responds or not.

�What is that song?� asks Joe, making me look up.

�That I was humming a minute ago? Uh, I dunno. Something I made up,� I answered, not quite getting why he was so interested.

�Oh.� Pause. �It sounded good.�

�Thanks.� I threw the towel into the laundry basket and climbed onto my bunk, being careful not to disturb the sleeping Chester. He looks so sweet and innocent as he lies there, eyes closed, the light reflecting gently off his labret piercing. I pity him immensely, for whatever has happened to him is clearly not pleasant.

Why have I climbed up here? There�s nothing to do here. The room is silent� a thick, oppressive silence, an almost suffocating silence�

Sorry, I was daydreaming a bit then. Chester�s squirming on the bunk underneath me, and I lean over to check he�s OK. He is, of course, just rolling over. He moans slightly, the first sound I have heard him emit since his arrival, except for his breathing. So, he has a voice. So why doesn�t he use it?

I don�t understand Chester. And I doubt I ever will.

There�s nothing to do and I�m pretty tired, so I�m gonna hit the hay.

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