There’s nothing better than the sound of a laughing child.Unless,you’re like me and you live alone.I was lucky to have a brain,where all the chemicals flowed to their proper destination like never-ending rivers.Agatha,my sister,was never able to surpass me with her illness at hand.Schizophrenia,a disorder of mentality,had caused her to see the unseen. She had the soul of the all knowing,and even with the ripples of disdain waltzing around her face,she stayed positive.But,one day,Agatha was taken away,and I couldn't feel the sparks of chrome colors that she protested were there. Yet,her laughs could still be heard.Through the hallways,and mostly in the patio, the giggles would play like a song,drifting away as the winter breeze pushed
