As I was finishing my lunch in the Greystone cafeteria, I noticed a young woman approaching with a tray of food. She looked somehow different from the rest of the patients here--- healthy--- almost, for lack of a better word, normal (whatever that is).

She sat down across from me as I began to eat my dessert, cherry Jell-O with whipped cream on top. There's something about eating Jell-O in a cafeteria that is soothing to me, which I suppose is about returning to my childhood and a certain wonder and innocence.

"Jell-O is cool." Remarked the young woman. She had long dishwater blonde hair that looked like a streak of water and blue eyes to match. She smiled.

I felt a pang in my stomach and suddenly was terribly uncomfortable. I was attracted.

"Yes," I followed. "Jell-O is unique." Unique? I couldn't believe I said that.

"It conducts brain waves."

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Jell-O. They've discovered that its molecular structure is very similar to that of our brains. It's made the same way."

I simply smiled, nodding. She continued. "Don't look at me like I'm crazy. Harvard did a study where they hooked up a man's brain to an EEG, but passed it through gelatin. The gelatin conducted the brain waves almost 100% of the time."

For some reason, suddenly I believed her.

"You're new here." She asked.

I nodded.

"Check out my file. Lily Van Burin. I'm a clinical manic-depressive but I'm not crazy. My husband put me in here after my last seizure so he could get hold of my estate. Check it out."

The way she talked had a certain calmness to it that with most patients made me uneasy. But her clip had a certain self-awareness that I would consider healthy.

"Childhood." She remarked. "We like Jell-O because it reminds us of being children." After that remark, she began to sing a song. It sounded familiar as she continued eating her salad, vegetables, and fresh fruit. Healthy I thought and then I recognized the tune, RAINDROPS KEEP FALLING ON MY HEAD.

Later that day, I did access Lily's file and discovered she was diagnosed as a clinical manic-depressive and her husband had her committed after a breakdown. She claimed it was spouse abuse but because of her self admitted destruction of her home, she was diagnosed and committed.

Her stats proved she was wealthy. As I continued, I noticed myself humming her tune to myself, realizing that while she may have an emotional disorder, I wasn't sure if she deserved to be here.

I was intrigued. Was this woman telling the truth but more importantly, why did I find myself caring so much for a total stranger?