Nut. She sat in the room with the clear wall. Alison sat at the table with me. Alison, who talked to God in the sunlight, who professed her virtue to all, who had spent three days in a visible, tangible Hell. who didn't flinch when she saw the girl with the paperclips stuck through her arm, pus squirting out onot the dark blue rug. Alison always stood with me in the medication line, Never complaining until she needed Cogentin, because her whole body was cramped up and she walked around like Pinocchio or some kind of zomnbie. She didn't even complain about that red stuff that was supposed to be meat that i gagged on (having just taken many pills of all shapes and colors: green and yellow oval, pink hexagon, white circle). She never cried until the boy with the fingernail self-inflicted scars on his arms (which reminded of a flesh-colored map with sanguine rivers and hairy trees) told of how he had tried to kill his mother. Alison, who is probably still sitting in a room with a clear wall. --coolcat