You have absolutely no memory of how you got here. most likely, this sleeping pill worked too well, no matter how much you resisted...

you woke up from a slight headache that wrapped around your forehead like a thin thread. Having opened your eyelids, which were stuck together from sleep, you were blinded by the fading of the local walls. you barely lifted your weakened body and looked around... an ordinary double room. the walls were painted a faded gray, the door with a plywood hole was the same color, the stone floor was stained with some kind of grayish stain. It's like everything is covered in a haze... and a roommate. He was a boy of indeterminate age with white hair and a mustache above his upper lip. His blue eyes peered out from under his glasses more cautiously than reproachfully.

"Good morning," he said softly, allowing a faint smile to linger on his lips, "are you here with PTSD too?"