"The sky is sad, sadder than it has ever been; but you couldn't tell. It still performs for you. Moving the clouds letting the sun and moon eternally chase each other."

Caroline spoke in a delusional way. Perhaps she was seriously talking about the sky. Though she's in my office; and doe that reason of calming my patients, the walls are in soft green with beige trim and a white door. The room surrounded by my favorite authors and others recommended to me.

"Why isn't there any stars?"

I asked wondering exactly how much pain she was in. To the raw eye this girl was a bit of everything in a complete balance. She was covered in jewels with a faint smile covering her most recent scars.

"It's not dark enough to see them. They are still there; but only show up when its too dark, too late. Like the lost are suppose to take the direction then. They can't hear or understand when they are so far away. It's just impassible cos nothing is impossible."

She ended her answer there, quoting Alice in Wonderland. What an interesting boo/movie to quote giving her state of health.

" Oh, I had never thought of it like that. Its true. What type of books do you read?"

A question I know was daring right now, but it had to be asked. It's the look on her face that scares me. A grin with her upper lip twisted, she gives me.

" Why I don't read books, I make them come alive. What simple minds don't get is that a book is never complete until it has a visual aid. We learned all about it last year in Mr. Elmers class. He told us that among other things. But that I never forgot."

She rapidly spit out all the words. Any faster and I could not have understood her.

"Why is a visual response so necessary?"

I responded to her eager confession. She tilts her head to the right and begins to explain.

"It's kind of like you get freedom. Weird that I couldn't get that here, I mean it's the friggin U.S.A.! but its artistic license to make some ones words human. More people could feel them, could understand, and then they will learn how a true writer feels because they hear it, smell it, see it, and most importantly they can touch it."

To that I had no real response. I mean who could? When a writer hopes and dreams to do all that with words only. I guess my thoughts were shown by my facial expression.

"You …. Want to hear how… dearest doctor? How it all happened? How it all started ?"

Sinisterly she spoke as id she knew, this little girl scared me. This petite; eleven year old, pop- rock punk music lover scared me. A surprise indeed.

"Sure"

I retorted, knowing I didn't have a choice, knowing I had to listen to her, After all I was her psychologist. She looked at my face, reading my deepest thoughts searching deep within my mind trying to find….

" You knew him….. didn't you?"

In her amazed and happy voice, I found a bit of intrigued in it.

" I may have. Tell me your story and I can add to your puzzle's beginning."

I replied to my surprise she still seemed eager to tell and to know.