Every five minutes past the hour I hear the scream. Echoing its way through these faded white walls. Piercing the quiet calmness of each room in its passing. For years I wondered where and from whom this tormented sound was birthed. Then to my surprise and dread, I found the answer that I had been seeking. I was the source of this long and woeful cry, and here from my own empty heart is where it came.

If not for the kindness of a kindred soul, I might have succumbed to the delusions that were forming in my mind. For this person, this angel of mercy, brought out the light I thought had been buried so long ago. A gentle touch and a soothing voice was the calm in my otherwise stormy life. Then my savior, my anchor in the void, was forced to go. And now having to draw upon my own strength and courage, I find that the screaming has started once again.