My new life at the Sane Asylum isn't so bad.

The staff has been ordered to keep my mask on at all times that I am outside of my soundproof dorm. Due to my toxic influence of stupidity whenever I opened my mouth to ask a question, the doctors and nurses were ordered to never try and communicate with me, to only give short, simple, easy-to-understand commands when they have to. They kept their distance, but that didn't mean I'm left all alone.

The head counselor put me in a full dorm with three other guys. None of them were particularly bright to begin with, but that's the company I've always ran with. I guess that was good thinking on their part. I don't want to make anyone whose already in this tough situation get themselves even worse off for coming here.

All the residents here have got something particular to their conditions. I've got my brain-shrinking bad breathe. My bunk mate's got a forehead that displays his inner thoughts. My best friend in the dorm's got a thing where he's constantly making the left switch with the right, right with the left, the whole surrounding universe flip back and forth, which gets very confusing when we're trying to straighten out whose bunk is whose. And his bunk mate does this thing where he burns in the sunlight. That's it, thought. No other vampirish characteristics. He just melts in the sun.

No one here gets especially bitter or angry at our situation. We know it's technically an asylum, but we've all still got our heads on right, so no one's trying to put us in diapers or spooning tapioca into our mouths. It feels kinda like an eternal summer camp, where the state pays for our toys and we don't have to worry about earning a living.

I don't mind being the smartest person in the room anymore, even though I have no choice.