At Least I Tried.

The room was white, blindingly so. The floor so polished there was almost a perfect reflection on the linoleum. Even the people wore white uniforms. Everything was clean and sterile. The staff's probably sterile too, Josh thought stepping into the building. The atmosphere made him feel very uncomfortable and out of place.

He brushed a few snowflakes off his parka. They looked gray against all the white. His steps echoed ominously in his head. They filled his ears until there was no other sound but the heavy thumps of his feet.

"I'm here to see Justin Pierre," he muttered once he reached the receptionist.

"Ward 3, Room 11 as always Mr. Cain," she said barely sparing him a glance as she gave him the visitor's pass. "Someone will be there to let you in."

He knew that. His lips pressed tightly in a smile at the protocol. He'd been here too often. He probably could have walked to Justin's room blindfolded. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. It wouldn't be an idea he could ever get used to.

As he walked down the halls, Josh could hear the constant babble of the other patients and the occasional scream. He felt the sound alone could drive a person towards insanity.

Ward 3, Room 11

His feet stopped automatically outside the room without his own conscious thought. No one was there yet to open the door for him. For this, Josh was grateful. He didn't want to see how his best friend was doing. He didn't want to see what was left. He was scared of what he might find on the other side of the door.

"He gets better and then he gets worse," the words of the doctor from a previous visit echoed in his mind. "I don't know what's going to happen to him."

A tall, thin, and bitter looking doctor came and opened the door for Josh before giving him a look of sympathy. Inhaling deeply, Josh stepped inside the room. The door closed behind him with a foreboding thud.

It, unfortunately, was a familiar sight. The padded walls, 20 feet high and only 6 feet wide, were a dirty gray. Even the floor was padded and gray. There were cameras in every corner, about 8 feet up the walls. It creeped Josh out. This was a room for crazy people; Justin wasn't crazy.

Everything was silent except for the the tapping and muttering of the person sitting in the middle of the floor. It wasn't Justin; it was only a skeletal shadow of the man. His eyes were sunken in behind grimy glasses. His once messy and spiky hair now hung in limp greasy clumps around a gaunt face. His tan skin was now a pale ashy color. Any sign of facial hair was nonexistent.

The band mate and friend Josh knew was gone and in his place, a nervous stranger.

"Hey," Josh said before sitting down in front of Justin.

Justin jumped at the noise of another human. "Josh," he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitched. His voice was hoarse. "How's it going?"

"Good, good. Record sales have gone up since people learned that the lead singer was in a mental ward." Justin gave a small chuckle. "Both Matt and Jesse got married, and Jill's expecting." Josh smiled.

"Really?" Justin's face lit up. A little too much. "That's great man congrats." His enthusiasm didn't meet his eyes.

Josh rubbed his hands on his pants nervously. "So how've you been holding up?"

Justin giggled. For the first time this visit he looked happy, or completely insane, either one. He put his hands on his knees and started swaying. Eyes darting to each of the cameras. "I'm breaking up," he sang. "Barely holding on. Safe is just a state of mind. My body aches it heaves, shakes." His eyes snapped down to Josh and he laughed again. He moved forwards on all fours. Josh leaned back in fear. Justin's face shone with delight.

"Imagine," he said. "Being checked up on 24 hours a day, no privacy. Shrinks come to tell you the same old shit you already know. You're followed constantly. You can't even take a fucking piss without someone there. You can't sleep. No, no," he waggled a finger at Josh. "Your body won't grant you that wonderful pleasure. All you want to do is kill yourself but they-" he pointed at one of the cameras "-won't let you."

He jumped up and ran to a camera. Staring at it, he started screaming, "Are you getting your fucking kicks you sadistic bastards? I hope you're enjoying my fucking suffering!"

Josh sat there, stunned and terrified. He finally came to grips with the fact that Justin's mind had indeed snapped. "Justin?" he whispered.

Justin turned sharply and sunk to the floor moaning, "Why can't you people just leave me the fuck alone?" His shoulders shook as he sobbed. It broke Josh's heart to see him. "I'm losing myself Josh," he said softly. He sounded saner now than he had in a long time. "And it's terrifying. I don't know what's going to happen when I lose it all completely."

Josh got up and kneeling next to Justin said, "Hey everything's going to be alright."

The older man shook his head. "Not this time Josh." He looked so helpless huddled against the wall. "Josh? Will you be my alibi? Can you tell them that I truly tried?"

"Tried what?"

"To give in."
____________________________

The phone rang the next day. "Mr. Cain? I'm sorry to have to tell you this but Justin Pierre is dead." Josh nearly dropped the receiver. "Since you were his last visitor we need you to come down and answer a few questions. Nothing big, just for filing purposes."

He couldn't believe it. But now the words that Justin spoke the other day made sense. The tears flowed freely. He wasn't sure how he made his way to the hospital. Suddenly he wasn't sure of anything anymore. A tiny part of him hoped that this wasn't happening.

They took him to Justin's old room first. Josh wished they hadn't. On the walls, written in what appeared to be blood were the words "I really did love life I just wasn't too good at it." There they were. Justin's final words to the world. Tears welled up once again in Josh's eyes. As they asked him questions, he didn't hear a word. Justin's voice echoed in his head.

"Can you tell them that I truly tried? ...To give in."