I dashed into the washroom and looked around hastily.

I sighed with relief when I saw Kelly at the basin, washing her hands. I smiled to see her safe but my smile tugged down as my eyes drifted to the mirror in front of her.

Written on the mirror in red was the same text that Ethan had sent me the night he died.

"K-Kelly...who wrote that?" I stuttered and she turned to look at me when I saw a bold, red pen in her hands. She smiled innocently at me freaking out.

Cold sweat dripped down my forehead and I could feel my anxiety attack soar.

My pills

But it was more important to find out the reason behind what I was seeing on the mirror. Kelly was just a kid. She would never know that text.

That's when I felt a third person's presence in the washroom. A chill ran down my spine as I swallowed hard on my saliva.

I had to gather my voice to be able to speak without my voice cracking.

"Who told you to write that?" I asked firmly. She just stared at my face blankly.

"Kelly, I asked you something. Who told you to write this on the mirror?!" I yelled and shook her.

A shudder was all she gave as a response to my yelling. I needed to soften up.

"I'll give you more pens if you tell me who asked you to write it." I said.

"The pretty boy." She said in her childish accent.

"What's his name?" I asked.

"I don't know." She shrugged," Will you give me red pens?"

"I will, but tell me what he looks like." I said, going closer to her and running my hand through her hair softly.

"He looks pretty." She said.

Ugh, I'm dealing with a patient. A 6 year old with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

"Okay, here's a bonus question. If you answer it well, I will give you a chocolate along with pens." I said.

"Really?" She clapped her hands in excitement.

"Yes...So, have you seen this pretty boy somewhere else too? Apart from this hospital?" I asked.

"Yes, I have," she paused.

I knew I couldn't trust everything she would tell me, but at that moment, anything, any little thing that could give me an answer to my problems was very important for me. It was the only thing I could believe. I hoped someone had been pranking me with that shit. I wanted to find out which arsehole had been poking fun at me. I wanted revenge.

"Where?" I asked as she didn't speak.

"On TV." She said.

"Wh-where is he right now?" I asked, getting tensed about her previous answer. No one around me, in my classroom, cram classes or even the whole school had been on TV, noting the 'pretty' detail.

"You said that was the last question!" She pouted.

"I- I'll give you two chocolates, how about that? Where is he now? " I repeated.

"He left."