The Story, was to put it simply, a creation that only a group of depressed, slightly insane group of young people locked away in an asylum could conjure. It was a creation of boredom and one too many bottles of Sertraline, built on unexpected friendships and desires of having purpose in a place cut off from the rest of the world.

The Story first went from mouth to mouth, ear to ear, told in hushed tones and cracked voices. A few tears now and then, maybe some fleeting smiles as well. There were occasional lies and fibs, cover ups to hide dark secrets but no one cared.

It was the idea of one boy to put those whispered tales down on paper to make The Story. Sometimes, late into the night, he would sit by the dim yellow light of the lamp and scribble down what he heard onto scraps of paper. The pen was slightly chipped, and sometimes the ink didn't flow quite as smoothly as he would have liked, but he continued to record the told tales. His roommate sat by him at times, helping him remember.

The boy told them about the creation of The Story. More tales were told, and this time stories of the present, not the past. When they got out, they wanted the whole world to know of The Story.

But one by one the group left the hospital, and The Story faded away. It became part of white walls and wafted off with the smell of disinfectant.

It was years later when the boy, now a young man and a renowned author would remember about The Story. He called upon his old roommate who was his good friend even after all these years and he helped him remember about the tales that were a hazy memory in his mind. Click-clack goes the keyboard, and this time the words on the computer appear as smoothly as he would have liked.

The Story is now made known. As the readers read, some shed a few tears, let out fleeting smiles. Others manages to find the lies and fibs, but never did they manage to find the hidden secrets.

The Story, was to put it simply, a creation that only a group of depressed, slightly insane group of young people locked away in an asylum could conjure. It was a creation of boredom and one too many bottles of Sertraline, built on unexpected friendships and a now fulfilled desire to leave a mark on people's live. And that was The Story's purpose.