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A sharp white light penetrated my eye lids along with murmurs so distant they felt like miles away.
I opened my eyes to see a white ceiling I wasn't familiar with, my conscious drowsy.

"Look! She's awake!," some strange voice whispered but I wasn't in a hurry to follow it. Instead I glanced around the room I was in, taking the surrounding in. At that point I knew something weird was going on or that I was trapped inside a very bizarre dream but one thing I was absolutely sure about, I've never been in this room in my life.

It was a small room containing nothing but a heavy looking white cabinet beside my bed with a few drawings hanging on the walls. Drawings of a house and what looked like a family with a dog and flowers, all looked like they were painted by a very young small child.
I turned to look around and my eyes rested on three girls, sitting on the only other bed. They grew silent once they saw I was looking at them.
They were scanning me with scared face expression on their faces.

"Where am I?," I cleared my throat a little, trying to wash down the dryness and the bitter taste with some saliva.

They exchanged glances, looking down on their shoes, not looking like they want or about to answer.

"Where the fuck am I?!," I roared, surprised by the volume I was able to produce.

The girls winced and cowered back on the bed, almost falling on the other side. Their eyes were wide open and full of anxiety.

"Please," I cleared my throat again. lowering my voice, "I need to know where am I?"

"She forgot again," the blond girl on the left whispered loudly, nudging her friend.

"What? What did I forget," I tried to sit up but my wrists and ankles appeared to be tied down to the bed, "What the fuck is this shit?," I tried again but with no different result.

The red head with a face full of freckles on the left giggled into her palms, "She said a bad word"

"What's going on?" my eyes burned as they filled with glassy wall of tears.

"Don't cry, Lola," the brunette in the center slid off the bed and knelled next to me, "Don't cry," she reached out to wipe the tears that already fell down.

I winced, jerking my face out of her reach, "Don't touch me! Who the fuck are you, crazy people?"

"Bad word!," the red head squealed, clapping her hands with joy.

"You're the one to talk, Lola," the blond told me severely, supporting the brunette to her feet, "Don't be sad, Lotta. You know that's how Lola is," she patted the brunette's shoulders while casting disapproving looks in my direction.

"Who the fuck is Lola?," I snapped at them.
If anyone should be comforted it was me. I was the one strapped to the fucking bed, in a fucking white ville with lunatics I didn't even know.

"Bad word!," the red head shrieked, bouncing on the bed as she was the only one remained sitting.

"You are," the brunette who was apparently Lotta whispered softly, stretching her hand to touch me again. Receiving the same rejection as before.

"I'm Viola," I exclaimed, "Not fucking Lola"

"Bad word!"

"Oh shut up!"

"Lola!"

"Viola!"

Lotta burst in tears, cupping her face in her palms. The blond hissed something at me and led her out of the room, motioning the red head to follow who skipped happily behind them.

"It's a fucking nightmare," I struggled against whatever restrained me to the bed, "Just a fucking nightmare. I'll count to 5 and take deep breathes and wake up back home, in my bed. Everything's cool. It's just a nightmare," I closed my eyes and began counting slowly, making a point to take a deep breathe each time.
When I finally reached five, I opened my eyes slowly but found myself back at where I started.

"You're finally using what Dr. Greg taught you," the woman from before approached me with a bright smile on her face, "That's great, sweetie"

"You!," I cried out, "What's going on? Where am I?"

"Calm down," she rested a soothing hand on my sweaty forehead, "You remember me?"

"You're the lady that had that huge syringe," I shuddered, closing my eyes at her touch.

"But do you remember my name, sweetie?," she looked down on me with pity claiming her face.

I shook my head, "Am I supposed to know you? It's just a nightmare"

"Oh honey," she sighed,"You were doing so good lately"

"Doing what?," I sniffled, "I don't understand anything"

"You're in Franklin juvenile fa-"

"Facility for mental health," I completed her sentence. I felt obliged to explain as she looked up hopefully, "You told me before I fainted or whatever, but why am I here?"

"You were hospitalized here," she simply shrugged.

"But why? By who? When?," I bombarded her with all the answers that floated through my brain, thinking that if I let them out they won't hurt my skull as much.

"It'll come back to you," she smiled encouragingly, "It always does and each time you progress more and more. Dr. Greg even told me he's thinking about moving you to another ward but shh," she pressed a long finger to her lips, "It's a secret. Don't tell anyone"

I gawped at her with my jaw dropped, finally closing my eyes, "It's just a nightmare. It's just a nightmare. It's just a nightmare"

"Do you want something to eat?" the lady asked over my chanting.

"It's just a nightmare. It's just a nightmare. It's just a nightmare"

"You were out of it for quite a while. You need to eat something"

"I don't wanna fucking eat!," I exclaimed, glaring at her patient face, "I wanna go home"

"Soon enough, sweetie," she smiled, her red lips stretching over her white teeth, "Now how about some good yummy meal?"

I had no other choice but to nod. She wasn't gonna answer my questions, and no matter how much I wanted to think otherwise I had to face the music.

"Magnificent," she clasped her palms together and started for the door.

"Miss," I called out somewhat desperately, making her turn around, "Can you please free me?"

"Do you promise to be good?," she looked me over with a suspicious look in her eyes.

I nodded, biting back the tears. Why was she talking to me like I was some retarded kid? Why was I even tied to a fucking bed?
It looked like a prank, something Frank would find funny, "Where's Frank?"

"Who?," the lady looked up, busy untying me.

"Frank Iero," my gut did a double jump just saying the name, "Where is he?"

"I think he was released a few months ago," the nurse said absent mindly.

Frank was here? I muttered to myself.
It figured for him to be in my nightmare after all. Now I was sure it was just a nightmare, Frankie wasn't literally crazy. Just as I wasn't.










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So this is the official sequel!!! However, you don't have to read We Can Settle This Affair to enjoy this one. (it would be nice if you did though -grin-)

Feel free to comment, your feedback means the world to me.

Oh and another thing, as most of the sequel is set in a mental institution and I never been to one (yet), the facts could be a little bit off as I don't know (yet) how they roll around there. So bare with me or share with me the details if you ever been to one.