She has brought me here, to this moment of clarity, where time slows down, and I choose to look back, to see myself.
No one who slept for a hundred years is likely to wake up. The prince didn't kiss her to wake her up.
You try to run from it, but the more you run, the deeper, more terrible it grows behind you, its edges yawning at your heels. A lightning bolt could re-animate you without a warning. If you think nothing can get to you, you're lying to yourself.Mona had come through here, the dead cleaners is a sign of her passage.
Makes you think about free will: have our choices been made for us because of who we are? Take it or leave it is the only choice given. A funhouse is a linear sequence of scares.Closing your eyes forces you to look at the darkness inside. Something in the night felt like a door had been opened, an echo of the past, an old monster snapping its eyes open in the depths of my brain. I felt elation, but with it, fear that all the past evils had come along for the ride. Mona's appearance had triggered a dislocation.Kissing her, I think of the cold laws of cause and effect.I wanted to dig inside my skull and scrape out the pain. There was a blind spot in my head, a bullet-shaped hole where the answers should be.The colors started to run, got smudged and gray. Somewhere down the road, the line went blurry. Everything had started out as black and white.The bullet lodged in my brain moved a fatal, microscopic distance. I was still alive, my loved ones were still dead.
This hadn't been my first fall in the night, still just a prelude to the real deal, still a long way to the bottom.Life knows two miseries getting what you don't want and not getting what you want.