She's not crazy. She swears she's not. Neither does she suffer from a mental disease, one of those that are undetectable.
And yet, once the sun sets and the North Star appears on the sky, she feels these cold chills going down her spine. And suddenly, her walk through the park transforms into a race against time, with invisible hands stretching towards her, ready to grab her and pull her into the pits of Hell.
Eyes - sparkling, dark coloured eyes that keep watching her.
She always thought of her house as some sort of sanctuary that could keep the bad outside, scratching at her door, howling at her blocked windows. But not tonight. The real Darkness somehow managed to slip inside with her, making it impossible for the light to actual illuminate the way up the stairs.
And once again she finds herself hurting like never before. Squatted next to the armchair, she feel the pain creeping closer and closer to her flesh, sneaking inside her, grabbing her heart with venomous claws that seem to tear through the walls of her heart.
The pain of remembering that He had left her, that He had sought for a way out from the very beginning. A way out of the darkness, out of her house, out of her life.
The pain. Like she feared, it became bittersweet, comforting to a certain extend. And there He was, dressed in light, smiling at her like only he knew how. It was mocking her confused heart, really now. It was mocking her beliefs, her futile attempts to stay normal when her whole world was out of balance.
And hands - stretched arms, palms almost facing each other, calling for her, asking for her warmth as a tribute to the Darkness that had defiled her house and body. Mute arms, body-less arms, colourless arms. Ghostly.
Just like her pain.
"Come, come with me where there is no darkness following in your footsteps."
It seemed only normal for her to grab the opportunity of peace and quiet. And it wasn't the shadows that were biting, digging holes at the back of her mind, but the idea that there were actually two ways in the promise, two meanings.
For only the eternal sleep could put away the fear that had nested inside of her. She knew that. And so did the beautiful illusion in front of her, her personal demon.
"Come with me."
Her palms weren't sweaty when she placed it in his stretched hand. And fear was nowhere in her eyes as he finally looked Him in the eyes. There was a cocktail of craziness and defiance, heroism and stupidity bouncing in her twirled lips.
"Let's drown the fear of falling and darkness will die away as well."
Wasn't that nice of him? Salvation through water.
"But I can't drown my demons," she whispered, right hand buried deeply in her pocket while the other still captive in His hand. " 'Cause my demons know how to swim," her voice seemed different. It stated actually the obvious: she was finally free. "But I can burn them."
It took a single sparkles from the lighter for fire to be born and show his already grown teeth while munching on the wooden floors of her house. And she was there, in the middle of it, holding her illusion closer than ever, embracing her fear with a smile.
Burn, baby, burn...