Sasha walked quietly back towards his room, still pausing every once and a while to look out windows. The sun outside was slowly sinking, casting bright rays across the ocean. This particular window gave him a view of the docks, with a medium sized boat bobbing as it sat there. If there was any way off this island, one of those boats would be just about it. It was cruel, almost. There freedom sat: so close yet so unobtainable. 

He moved along again. He was thinking about doing some exercise before dinner time rolled around. He liked to try and stay in shape. After all, what [i]else[/i] was there to do? Sasha turned the corner of his hallway to see that the two patients and guard were still hanging around near the door of his room. Only this time, the good doctor had joined them. 

Dr. Greene was one of the many whitecoats here that gave him the creeps. He was overall very unassuming in appearance, much like a friendly grandpa. His demeanor, however, was nowhere near grandpa status. In Sasha's mind, the man tended to lurk around, as if stalking new and unsuspecting prey. It didn't help that he was often the one who personally escorted patients to be mysterious 'downstairs'. 

Sasha often pondered how much deeper into shit he would be if he rung the old bastard's neck. He was already locked away in Hotel California, what else could they do to him? But as much satisfaction he imagined choking the doc would be, he just settled for a good, hard glare. As he passed by the man, just close enough to bump arms, Sasha turned and gave him an evil eye before turning into his room. 

He shut the door behind him, not wanting to hear the chit chatting taking place in the hallway. He slipped off his shoes and began doing some stretches to loosen up.