Just as Sloane was about to move from her stagnant position, a man approached her from the side. She turned to look at him, and returned his smile with a small one of her own. Even if he was a nutcase, she would have someone to talk to it seemed. But this guy skipped the formalities and went straight into the questioning, taking Sloane by a bit of surprise. [b]"You don't seem like one of those nutheads who just scream at the walls. Why are you in here anyways?"[/b] She kind of shrugged as she thought of an appropriate answer for him, "I, uh..." before she could get anything else out, he revealed his name. 

"I'm Sloane," she held her hand out in greeting, "nice to meet you." After shaking his hand, she returned to her thoughts on formulating the right response to his question. Should she tell him? What good would that do her? Then again... what harm could it bring? She was already locked in this godforsaken place. "You don't seem all that crazy yourself there, John." She turned her head from side to side, seeing several patients that were rocking themselves in the fetal position or scribbling nonsense on a piece of paper. Turning back to him she nodded, "I was uh... put here by my parents. I tried to tell them something, they didn't believe me. So I, uh, showed them myself. And then they called animal control and the goddamn police." She shook her head slowly, "And to prove that I'm not crazy, I would show you myself. However, since I've been here I have lost the ability to do what I used to do." She shrugged, she probably sounded cuckoo for coco puffs right now. "Yeah so... what about you? Why are you locked up with this bunch?"