Sakoto was calm as she watched from behind her own eyes as she would a silent film. An old woman walked into the room. She was dancing: her madness. The old woman handed a small cup over with three pills: blue, purple, white. These made her happy and she clapped; she no longer tried to control the actions. She observed with curiosity as she performed ridiculous, spontaneous things.

            Sakoto didn’t know why she was there: her madness. Though she often wondered. Sometimes she would try to remember, and sometimes she thought she had done something very bad. Maybe even horrible.

            Sakoto recalled very little from before. Just glimpses of red. But most of the time she sat back and watched her skip and play through the white washed halls. Sakoto watched her fold the bright colored paper, and watched the doctor’s lips move almost as fast as their pens. But no words ever penetrated the laughter. No sound at all. The laughter echoed and was endless. She thought it might drive her mad.

            One day a voice did break through the laughter and surprise shook Sakoto.

            An orderly handed her the phone at the nurses station. Or maybe she had picked it up. Sakoto was never sure about what was seen what was real. Only that it was. The nurses were talking, happy and oblivious, but it was not their voices which breached past.

            “Sakoto-san, this is Gwyn.” She stared at the phone as if it had grown sentience and was ready to bite her, raising it slowly back to her ear. The name Gwyn tugged precariously on her memory. “I’m sorry to take you out of the solace you find in insanity, but the scrolls are in danger. You are in danger.”

            As the airy voice danced over the line Sakoto came back to herself. She remembered the way her husband folded the beautiful origami papers; all sorts of colorful animals around their lovely home, decorating her office, giving her inspiration. She remembered the strange power. She remembered the last word of her last haiku, the kanji stained with red. Blood. Her husband’s blood. She remembered and she could not stand it.

            With no mercy the voice on the other end continued. “We contacted Lenka but were too late to change his fate. The others will not listen to us. You are the one who must warn them.”

            “But I can’t.” Sakoto’s voice cracked from lack of use.

            “Then you cannot be saved.”

            The line went dead.

            Sakoto clutched the receiver to her in desperation, hoping the dial tone would tell her something different. She wanted the laughter to return, and she never thought he’d want that. For so long she wanted nothing more than for it to end. Afterwards she wandered the halls. The guards, orderlies and nurses looked at her, their apprehension clear. Even some of the other patients shot her suspicious glances. Finally, she went back to the desk where the worker looked up at her.

            “I need to call someone back.” The man appeared confused, she elaborated. “Someone called me earlier from an organization called the Clover Club.” Concern began to work its way into his expression. “Her name was Gwyn.”

            The guard pushed a button and stated, “nurse Ogata please come to adult hall C.” his request rang out over Sakoto’s head before he turned back to her and switched to a tone of false cheer, patronizing in it’s sweetness. “Sakoto-chan, no one called you."