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the pits of our reserves when hope is so far away from us, that we come together as a group, we are one, working to save that which we have destroyed. Striving to undo what has brought us to the brink of despair and devastation.
    So I ask you dear readers, what do these disasters teach us, is there a lesson in the pain that we endure, when everything that we have ever known is lost, swept away with an absolute swipe of the universal hand of fate? In fact, do these moments in our existence, slow us, make us take stock of those things that we have put so much energy into. Because what point is there in building a castle when there is no being to share it with you, and if that castle is empty of that which we call love, then does it cease to give us pleasure, are we building to have it all destroyed and build it once again? Is the purpose in the building or is it in the belief that every thing will be better when the building is complete, yet when it is done does it leave the builder hollow, aimless, searching for the next project to fulfill their need to own, to possess, to create…  
    But I digress, because it is in the symbol of the star that I have decided to speak upon, and how the star is so part of our lives and how it has so many of the answers that we seek. Was it not a star that led the 3 wise men to the Messiah, as is believed by the people who aspire to the Christian faith? A pointer to the baby that was believed to be the Son of God brought to earth to save the sinners. I do not know whether this is true or false, there are too many faiths to go into a diatribe on semantics, but here in is the oneness that is us, the oneness that says that there is something outside us that makes things happen all around us, but what I must ask myself is this, if that thing that we believe is outside us and is happening TO us is that real, or maybe is it the truth that it is in fact happening by us, and that we are the creators of our own reality…
    Kaila was jolted out of her space by the shrillness of the fire alarm. She closed her laptop, tucked it beneath her arm and sauntered over to the window furthest from her desk. The view shifted in that space, allowing her to see farther down the road that led to Wildwind. She wondered if today there actually was a fire. The chances were slim that it was real. Nearly eighty-five percent of the times before there had been no fire, but instead a resident who had somehow gained access to the levers that were kept in places that were forbidden to all but the staff.  
    On first glance the view was identical to the one she had studied everyday before that one. But seconds later she saw it, the thing that had happened before but she had never witnessed first hand until right then, the swan dive of a patient. The ultimate plunge into the unknown where they once again united with the collective energy, or what everyone called death.  
    And as the body of the person who was just a blur of color and light fell flailing for microseconds before landing silently and definitively on the concrete below, the world grew silent around her, as if the earth had stopped breathing and all sounds had ceased to exist. Then with striking reality and shocking clarity, the alarm was there again and was now entwined with the hysterical voices of people devastated by the reality, that yet another person had felt death was their only option left in life.

CHAPTER 4
    “Some heads are going to roll for this latest jumper. I mean Wildwind is already on probation and now this,” Pauline said, shoveling a spoonful of what most patients termed gruel.  
    The soup, that was a mix of rice, chicken and broth with a few spices and little else, was called Congee. The dish was a traditional Thai breakfast offering and was supposed to impart health after a digestive illness or flu, as it was especially easy to digest. The novel dish had been introduced to the Wildwind menu two years before, when an outbreak of a horrible flu