Cotton candy

I seriously need to lighten up.

Knife or scissors. Choose.

I'm sort of hungry. It's a strange feeling.

The top of my mouth, just behind my front teeth, still feels sort of like an acid burn. I thought to myself, It's summer! Why don't I just take off my socks and walk around in sandals all the time? And then, an hour later, I remembered. I now have three huge blisters on my feet. Which I picked at. They were bothering me. And then I cut the flaps of skin off. So now they're all raw and I've taken to walking around on my toes. The cuts on my hand and shoulder seriously don't hurt at all. But then, they're not deep. I'm no fanatic. It's sort of annoying when the skin folds, though.

School starts again on Wednesday. I can't say I'm particularly looking forward to it. And it's at AY, of all places. This will be my first ever taste of high school in the real world. It's... frightening, in a way. I'm too used to band geeks.

My internets have been down for ages. It keeps telling me about the DNS cache. I don't know why it does it, I don't know what the DNS cache is, I can't even pronounce it. I am so sick of this DNS whatsit. So, so sick.

It's raining slightly. There's a bird chirping somewhere in the distance.

I've been getting more sleep than ever... and yet I'm always so tired. Inside and out. So, so tired.

Last night, I did not have an epiphany. More of an anti-epiphany. What I call a "who am I kidding" moment. In church, of all things. Someone had brought in a Nester. I couldn't tell exactly who, but I could see its spidery limbs and just sense it, like one can sense when something is rotting. I admit it, I was scared of it. As the night wore on it grew worse and worse, and fear mixed with anger; that someone had dared to bring a Nester in here! To this holy place! I was aware on some level that they probably didn't know they had it, and in fact I was the only one who felt anything at all, but I was scared. I panicked. Literally. I had a panic attack right there. I ran outside, gasping for breath, and curled in the grass beneath a tree, shaking. I stayed there for awhile. Then bugs started dive-bombing me. Big ones, around the size of beans. I must have had four or five of them crawling over me at one point. In some ways that helped. They weren't hurting me, and it was kind of comforting. Perhaps because of that, this panic attack wasn't nearly as bad as the others. I got better quickly and went back inside not long after. One bug followed me and I had to take it back outside to the other bugs. They seem to like me.
Anyway. Maybe it was while Mike was talking about how we influence others, or during the attack, or sometime after when I was sitting alone staring at the ceiling, but I realized: Who am I kidding. It wasn't a question. I'm clearly incapable of caring for a girlfriend. I'm not going to be a success in the world because I'm different and we all know it. I lack the social skills needed to keep friends. I try to be religious but fail, every single time. I like to think I'm something special but I'm probably just crazy, or more likely have too much imagination. That's what everyone wants me to think, anyway. I don't really have any sense of my own emotions. And I'm so wrapped up in my own deluded self-pity that it's a wonder I can see anything in the real world at all any more. Hope? Who am I kidding.
And yet, you ask, if you've really lost hope, then why don't you lose the girl, drop out of school, get as much sex and drugs as possible, abuse everyone, and/or just kill yourself right now, destroying your life and the lives of those around you in search of cyanide and happiness? And I don't really have an answer to that. I can only say that that's not the kind of person I am. But if I really am, deep down, a good person... then why must I hurt myself so? And again, I don't really have an answer.
Hope? I wonder.

Late as gravy

Insides: squirmy. Bits are still shifting about. Still full of gas. Sometimes I really hate my body. Not so much the outside; that I've learned to accept for what it is. It's the inside that's awful. Sums up me, really.
Maybe that's what I'm like. Like a broken mirror... crystal? Snowflake? Yeah, that's appropriate. From a distance it's all glittery with hints of a lonely heart, but inside it's just glaring light reflected off of razor-sharp edges trying to hide the screaming darkness at its core...
Maybe I'm too hard on myself. I keep telling myself I'm a good person. I'm not sure we believe it.

I seriously hope this sickness is just pressurized intestines combined with my natural intolerance for food. If it's something else... If this is just Skeleton screwing with me there will be bloodshed. Honestly, sometimes these "defense mechanisms" are just too over-the-top. I don't need protecting in this case.

On the subject thereof... guilt again? I don't know. I do so desperately crave physical contact. Having someone to hold is at least as- a mearth of a lot more necessary than food. I just keep pushing it, over and over again, and we all know eventually it's going to go over the edge. Not that edge, the other edge. I'm just afraid I'll become too obsessed with the physical side and let myself get pushed away.
Why am I so afraid?

Psht, forget it. I may as well ask why I hate myself so much. I'm young and stupid and might not survive to know anything else. I predicted this would happen to me years ago but there was nothing I could do. There's never anything we can do to stop the ever-spinning wheels of Time pulling us further and further into the future, towards everything we will ever love or hate.

Now I must stop writing before I become completely emo for the night. Ugh. Sometimes I doubt writing out my thoughts is really all that productive.

Tiger Wolf

Why are humans so afraid of hives?
Is it because we associate them with insects and aliens?
Is it because we're afraid of losing our individuality?
Or is it because they're better than we are... and we know it?
And there's nothing we can do about it?

Babylon's Curse

I had a strange dream last night. Not the dream where I woke up, though. That's said to be the strangest dream of all. We dream it just before we die... or just after. I hope to dream that dream some day.

Wooden houses. Winter. A pale, red-haired slightly gothic girl. We fight a dream battle, with hammers and energy balls and boomerangs made of ice. The battle rages on and on, until we reach a standstill. We stop suddenly and I hold her, never looking at her face. We stay like that for some time. Then some friends of hers arrive and she leaves, not looking back. I disappear, unnoticed.
The sun rises and it burns. All who are caught in its rays are poisoned and eventually vanish. Some of us escape through the forest, dodging sunbeams through the trees. A few drive off in cars, but I am cruelly left behind with only a pair of wisecracking horses for company. Eventually help arrives, but the sun returns and we are all burned.

It somehow reminded me of another dream I once had. Most of it was irrelevant. But this one image I have... A young woman, light-skinned, red hair laced with grey, cloaked in grey, wisps of cobweb in the air around her... and she was beautiful. More than anything else I remember that. She was beautiful.
I wonder what it meant.

We had a street party today. Free food, entertainment... and yet it sat heavy on my heart. It reminded me that I have only six months left. Six short months until December. It's... not easy, staring death in the face like this. True, I don't KNOW that I'm going to die... I only have... thoughts. Ideas. Visions. Predictions. And there's always the chance that I can win. Maybe I'll defeat the challenge that awaits me. Maybe I'll return with my head held high. Maybe. Maybe. I don't rightly know. I wonder if the world will end on that day. Probably not. Maybe for me. I don't know... that's the trouble. Six months until maybe I die. Should I be worried or not? I don't rightly know. I can't rightly say.
Six months. Such a terribly long and short time.

Hug levels reaching critical

Apparently I'm spending too much time on the computer.
That seems to be the reason for everything that's wrong in my life, according to my parents. I know this sounds stupidteenagerish, but seriously, there comes a point where I start to lose faith in their ability to judge the way my mind works.
Not getting enough sleep? You're spending too much time on the computer. (Acceptable.)
You have no social life? You're spending too much time on the computer. (Pushing it.)
The levels of stress in your life are causing you to lose the ability to function at all? No, don't even want to hear your stories about personality disorders and unexplained visions. I'm sure the recent trip to the hospital has nothing to do with it. It must be because you're spending too much time on the computer. (Seriously, WTM?)
I know I'm to blame as well. But sometimes I wonder.

I went swimming today. First of the year, and first ever unsupervised. Then I got out. Seriously, it wasn't that interesting.

I feel like going shopping sometime. I've never really been properly shopping. I can't really get anywhere by myself, and a lot of the things I want to buy I would have great difficulty explaining to my parents... a chew toy, girl's clothes, matches and candles, leather gloves, a sword-cane... or just a sword. I really would like a sword-cane, but one way or another for reasons I can't quite explain I really would like to own a sword. The issue is the different things would be for different parts of me - it's actually really funny to picture IMPACT wearing a dress - but people treat me, the whole me, as an individual. So you see the problem.

I can smell curry. Mmm. Curry.

Chris is on a band trip at the moment. He'll be back by tomorrow. Can only hope it goes better than mine. We performed at Wonderland, you see, early in the morning, so we had the rest of the day to wander around. The problem was we had to stay in groups. Anyone found walking alone would be in serious trouble. So I hitched myself to a group and instantly hit trouble; none of them listened to a word I said. Lunch came, and I went to get some, um... I forget what exactly. It had shrimp. Mmmmmmmm... shrimp. Anyway, when I returned with my food I discovered some idiot had wandered off by himself. The group decided to go off and look for him, leaving me alone with my lunch. I then spent the rest of the day looking for them. I remain deeply resentful, not so much because of them, but because it just drove the point home that this was how people thought of me, had always thought of me and always would think of me. Someone who doesn't matter.
I guess I've learned in some ways to accept that. Everyone else seems to.

He'll have worms today.

One word.
FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
...which, looking at it now, looks like it should be read "FREE DOOM". So really I should say
"FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEDUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM!" but then people will accuse me of spelling it wrong. Sigh. Stupid words.
Speaking of words, I never have to look at that stupid typo again. There was a painting right across from my locker, depicting people as ants with the song on either side (the ants go marching one by one...) with the words changed. And DIRECTLY across from me was a typo. Misfourtune. That drove me up the wall once I spotted it, it did.

But anyway. I have nowhere to go and nothing to do, so for the first time in a long time I'm going to take the day completely off. Except for feeding Milo. Have to feed Milo. But apart from that...

So, in light of the good mood I'm in, I think I'll tell a joke.

There's a bar at the top of the CN tower, and this guy goes there every day. One day, he turns to the guy sitting next to him and says, "Hey. I bet you that I can drink thirty glasses of whisky in sixty seconds, jump out the window, fly around the tower, fly down, fly back up, and fly back in again."
And the second guy says, "You're on!"
So the first guy drinks thirty glasses of whisky in sixty seconds, jumps out the window, flies around the tower, flies down, flies back up, and flies back in the window.
And the second guy says, "Whoa. Well, I bet you that I can drink sixty glasses of whisky in thirty seconds, jump out the window, fly around the tower twice, fly down, fly back up, fly down, fly back up, and fly back in again."
And the first guy says, "You're on!"
So the second guy drinks sixty glasses of whisky in thirty seconds, jumps out the window, and falls all the way down to his death.
And the bartender says to the first guy, "Superman, you're a real jerk when you're drunk."

Completely Unrelated Title

First exam today. There was a story about a bus ride that we had to answer questions on. It was interesting, because at first we felt sorry for the main character - she's just caught her boyfriend driving around with another girl, and is certain that he's cheating on her. But as the story goes on and she continually insults the people around her we begin to like her less and less. At the end a very sick man throws up and collapses on her, and no one pays any attention to her. She starts crying and declares that no one in the world was more miserable than her. Strangely compelling. Then a 5-paragraph essay. I chose The Chrysalids, and the topic was loyalty. Inkeeping with my usual essay style, I proved that the "evil" characters were in fact the most loyal. Overall it went pretty well. I doubt the others will be so easy.

She's dropping hints like cherry bombs; she wants me to say it. To stop drawing hearts and just tell her that I love her. But I know better. Experience has taught me not to write those words down; first to say them, aloud, to her face. And an appropriate time has yet to come. Until then... for better or for worse... I hope she understands.

And now, a random story.

The Rift
(Part of the Ongoing Saga of Heather and the Heretic)

"Why are we here?"

It was a fitting question, but I didn’t really expect an answer. This wasn’t the first time I’d been dragged from my bed to go running about on some "experiment" that invariably went nowhere but was still somehow always a success. I wrapped my jacket further around me and shivered. We didn’t usually go this far.

"You’ll see." He kept walking, not slowing in the slightest as we left the light of the last streetlights. I hesitated, but quickly ran on as I began to lose sight of him. I had to follow; things seemed to go badly when he tried to do anything by himself, especially at night. Besides, he was the only one who knew the way back. Suddenly he turned and stepped onto the street. I let out a squeak of fright, but of course there were no vehicles around. Not out here, at this time of night. I rushed to catch up.

He stopped, right in the middle of the road. It was still completely silent, but even so I felt a pang of paranoia as I followed him. Two steps away from him he motioned for me to stop. "Heather," he whispered, "can you feel the rift?"

I listened very carefully. The answers to his riddles were never obvious, and it looked as though this would be no exception. "No," I said. "You know I can’t."

He smiled softly and raised his arms. "I finally found it. It all makes sense now." I had never seen him so happy about one of his ‘discoveries’. "Soon I’ll have it perfected. Tonight is the big test."

In the distance there was a faint roaring of an engine. "There’s a car coming," I warned. Worriedly I began to back away. He merely turned and wrapped his black jacket further around him. In the darkness he was nearly invisible. "Get out of the way," I hissed, an edge of panic creeping into my voice. Some part of me knew he wouldn’t listen. I didn’t stop. "Please, move… don’t do this… please." In the half-light of the approaching headlights I could barely make out his smile.

The car wasn’t slowing. It hadn’t seen him. He wasn’t moving. I shifted in agony from one foot to the other, watching as the car came closer and closer. I couldn’t move. He lifted one hand and gave me a tiny, silent wave.

At what seemed to me to be the last second I finally broke out of my trance and dived for him. I don’t know what I was thinking, maybe that I’d push him out of the way, or something. But just as I reached him he took a tiny step sideways and I missed him completely. I stumbled-

I saw the endless road, the roaring wheels, my sister’s body bursting like rotten fruit…

-and hit the pavement hard. The car swerved wildly, its horn still blaring in my ears, but didn’t stop. Slowly I stood up, steadying myself against the wall. He was gone. With shaking hands I tried to rub the light from my eyes. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t even cry.

"Got you, didn’t I?"

Before I knew what I was doing I’d whirled around and punched him in the face, smashing him into the wall. "Don’t you ever do that again, you hear?!" I screamed, tears finally streaming down my cheeks. "Don’t you ever do that again!" Then I took him in my arms and kissed him, long and hard. "Don’t you ever do that again."

Like there's a gun to your head

It's the last day before exams. After this I'm going to get ready to cram.

My Top Ten Most Randomly Favorite Songs:

10. Moondance (Van Morrison)
Not the greatest love song in the world, but it’s special to me. The first song I ever learned to sing. Sadly, I can’t listen to it any more. It brings back too many memories.

9. Swing Life Away (Rise Against)
A "sigh softly staring into the distance with a smile on your face dreaming of another life" song. Relatable, depressing without actually being depressing, the music makes you think of all the good things in life. I sometimes listen to it at night and sing along with my own words.

8. Can’t Stop (Red Hot Chili Peppers)
People don’t seem to like this song for some reason. I don’t see why. I always liked the sound, and the story it told felt… I don’t know. Right. I guess it’s one of those songs you just have to love without ever really knowing why.

7. Lux Aeterna (Clint Mansell)
Aside from being one of the most powerful pieces I’ve ever heard… actually, I don’t even need to say any more than that. The sheer power behind this music is enough to warrant it being on this list.

6. Beast and the Harlot (Avenged Sevenfold)
The only song that has ever directly made me cry. The story of Babylon wells up inexplicable depression in me. I don’t know why it affects me so much… it’s almost like I was there. But of course, that’s a silly thought. Of course. Yeah.

5. Shut Me Up (Mindless Self Indulgence)
Or any song by Mindless Self Indulgence, really. It’s just that unique sound they have. It seems to represent the built-up anger I have towards the world. Mindless Self Indulgence has been described, frequently, as the worst music ever written… and yet… somehow… you just have to keep listening to it.

4. Grace Like Rain (Todd Agnew)
I just had to include this song. It saved my life once, you know. Funny thing, depression.

3. There’s A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven’t Thought Of It Yet (Panic at the Disco)
Aside from (or perhaps because of) having an annoyingly long name, this is one of the first songs I ever fell in love with. The tune, the words, the imagery, it all just came together in my head and made me smile.

2. 7 Days to the Wolves (Nightwish)
Epic. This is, I think, the best way for the world to end. Seven days before the end of the world I plan to play this nonstop and shout it at everyone I see. They’ll think I’m crazy, no doubt. I won’t care because I’ll be enjoying the song too much.

1. Spanish Train (Chris de Burgh)
Why Spanish Train? BECAUSE IT IS AWESOME. I consider Spanish Train to be one of the greatest ballads of all time.

It's a lizard. With a hat.

I really shouldn't be blogging now. I've got a veritable crabload of work to do. How much is a crabload? How much does the maximum daily food intake of the number of crabs you can fit into your mouth weigh? I don't know either.

Lux Aeterna again. This suggests that I'm worried about something.

I'm feeling much better now. It's as though the Father reached His hand through my chest and is keeping my heart beating. I can actually feel it. On the other hand, I've spent much of the day high on Silence. Silence and World are drugs, but not normal drugs; they're imaginary. This doesn't make them any less effective. I only take them when I'm stressed. If I ever get addicted I've sworn to give myself an I-told-you-so and a smack upside the head. But that shouldn't happen.

I'm still... angry, somehow. Going up and down. Up and down. Let's blame it on the end of the year coming up. That makes sense.

The Panda Party hasn't been updated in awhile. I hope she hasn't given up.

Sigh. What can I say? The continued existence of life. I go on. The world tries its best to go faster. I end up with a crabload of work and a piano lesson.

The problem with becoming a social recluse is if you do it all at once people ask you why

I wonder if they'll tell stories about me some day. Doubt it.

I feel like I have natural camouflage. I'm completely invisible to the world. People forget about me instantly. No one looks at me. I'm automatically excluded from conversations. Out of time, out of space, I have no place in reality. It's as if the whole of the Universe is trying to systematically deny that I exist. I don't blame them. I'm an anomaly. It's hard to accept me when I never should have existed in the first place. Maybe I should just accept it. Fade away.

I saw dark giants again today. Yes, plural. Two of them. They came for me outside and watched. They were there for me, but seemed unsure about coming too close; I was with a group. If they'd done anything to someone else there's no telling what would have happened. I stuck close to Jennyleigh and didn't dare try to go inside alone.
The fact that I know they're servants of the Dark King is in some ways reassuring. It means they're not some fundamental part of the Universe trying to blot me out. Also, hurting me is one thing. That he's responsible for hurting my fravashi is cause for vengeance.
Speaking of Jim, I think there's something wrong with him. He's been... strange, lately.

If Religion is opium, Science is crystal meth

Kassee, who some know as "my friend in America", and I have known each other for about… well, I haven’t been counting, but I’m going to guess about a year. Together, we came up with… alright, it was mostly her. I helped, but seriously, she knows this stuff a lot better than I do. This is the theory as I understand it.

Okay. First off, I’m a huge believer in angels. Yes, God too – I have my own interpretation of Him. Everyone does, in their own way, but unlike most denominations I fully admit that my personal opinion of exactly what He is and what happens when we die is probably wrong. Or at least inaccurate. And I am completely okay with that – but the point I’m trying to make is I believe strongly in the power of angels on earth, of the light… or otherwise.

One of the parallels we’ve drawn is that of the ancient Greek Gods. Their tales and legends, while seeming absurd, my have elements of truth in them. Some of their stories bear striking resemblances to others… the stories of the wars between the angels and demons. One in particular tells of a great battle between two demons on a mountain. Or maybe it was a hill. Okay, I forget the specifics, but rest assured there is a link: the old gods may have been the Greeks’ interpretations of the struggles of the higher powers.

This brings me to another point. I don’t believe all fallen angels are inherently evil. Rest assured, there are some truly Dark beings out there; terrors the like of which we can barely dream. But I believe there must be at least some good in a few. It’s like saying all anarchists are terrorists.

Another comparison is found in Zoroastrianism. In this the Creator, known in this interpretation as Ahura Mazda, battles the Druj, also called the chaos. Like Him the Druj are uncreated, meaning they were never born and will never die, and seek to destroy all that He has created. From their known descriptions they are obviously similar to the Dark angels, the demons. I can’t help but also note their similarity to the Void and the Screaming Darkness, both deadly entities on the Third (Spiritual) Plane, but which I haven’t been able to conclusively confirm the existence of. Suffice to say they are Chaos of the darkest kind. Also of note are the fravashi, spiritual guardians who send down souls to help us fight the battle between good and evil. After we die we are finally reunited with them. Whether they are the same as God’s messengers or are an entirely different breed of angels is unknown.

But I digress. The point I’ve been laboriously trying to reach is this: we may be part angel.

I’m not certain if I buy into this. I mean, for a start, it would imply that our families are part angel as well, and I for one just can’t see that. And the logical absurdity of it all. And yet… it explains so, so much. Legends tell of the Giants; the children of angels, born of mortal women. They were granted powers beyond anything of a normal human, but often became corrupt. It’s even been speculated that the entire purpose of the Flood (it appears in enough religions, you can’t deny it’s got to have something to it) was to rid the world of the Giants, start fresh. Noah and his family in this case would be amongst the last of the "pure" humans, untainted by angel blood. And need I mention the Greek legends? The Children of the Gods.

And the Mist. Long ago, God or the Gods shrouthed the world in a Mist that mortal humans could not see through. In this they could hide the things that humans were not meant to see. And Kassee and I… we both see things that no one else can see. Some would call this delusions. Others hallucinations. It brings the very nature of insanity – and even sanity – into question. And really, we’re the prime targets for this sort of thing. Her, haunted from birth... and me, cursed with understanding.

So I can’t say. Either way we can’t prove anything… but what if we’re right? What if? I call us half-bloods. She calls us Heroes of Legend. (Actually she misspells Heroes half the time, but I know what she means.) I wonder which is more accurate. It is true, I have felt the calling… the Darkness seems desperate to draw me to their side. It seems we are destined for something greater. I have seen an image, of my Final Trial… someday, I will face the Darkness that assails me. This will be my greatest challenge. In my current state I am as nothing to him. And if I should fail… I speak the truth when I say… God help us all. And yet, think of Jesus of Nazareth. Direct descendant of the Creator, the greatest half-blood of all. I mean, that’s got to be some inspiration at least.

Perhaps, perhaps. We will see.

If there's one thing I am, it's a storyteller.

There’s a strange pain in my side. It started a couple weeks ago, in a kind of lump shape, and recently sort of exploded outwards. Sometimes I think it moves. Sometimes it even feels like it’s alive. Which is kind of weird.
I’ve started calling her Pandora. Yes, I am in fact referring to my own mysterious pain as my daughter. Why not? It makes her seem less alien. Yes, I know that’s really, really weird, and yes, I know it’s impossible for a grown human male to become pregnant, and I’m sure it wouldn’t feel like this. Then the pain flares up again and I just wince and smile. I guess I’m strange like that.

I got sent to the hospital again. Teacher found me slumped at a desk, hyperventilating, shaking, half crying. Probably would be screaming, if I could scream. I kept muttering "he’s here" over and over again. I jumped away when I was touched.
He came for me. The Dark One. Touched me, hurt me. I was scared. So, so scared, terrified for my life. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t… anything. It was awful.
I don’t remember too much. But I remember the fear. And I know that he’ll come for me again. He may never stop. I just hope I survive… of course I will. He doesn’t want me dead. He wants me broken beyond repair.

I think I’m in love. (again.) She’s:

• Beautiful
• Confident
• Caring
• Small

Okay, "small" isn’t really a good or bad thing. I just thought I’d mention it.
And yet… I’ve got a terrible feeling. Perhaps I’m just paranoid; things in the past haven’t really gone too well. But what if it’s more? What if I hurt her, as I’ve hurt others? What if she doesn’t accept me for what I am? What if I’ve been so broken that I can’t feel love for her, or anyone, ever again? That above all is my greatest fear.
But maybe that’s why I’ve found her. Perhaps, through her, I can learn to love again. Love her, love myself, maybe even love the world. She will be my redemption… or my undoing.
I can only hope. Hope is often all I have left.

I can’t see myself as living to see seventeen.
Maybe it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy in that sense. I have no idea. But I do get the feeling that this will be my final winter. My final trial.

Have you ever seen a portal?

The Dark One appeared to me again. This time with a proposition.

Same church. Different time. I felt the summoning and went outside. It seems he has some link to me, though I dread to think how deeply it runs. Outside I stood on the very edge of the porch, refusing to leave the boundaries of the church. He appeared before me, not as merely a face but this time a devourer of souls. "What?" I asked, annoyed.
And he spoke to me. Not in words, but in thoughts, in ideas.
I am wrapped around your heart, laced through your soul. You belong to me.
"I belong to no one."
I OWN you! I could crush you with a thought. You are as nothing to me.
I sighed. "Go away. You are not welcome here." Then I turned and went inside.

Later, I heard him calling again, this time with a proposition. I went outside again.
I can give you what you want.
I waited, knowing what he would say next, but needing time to think.
You want to understand. You want to know what you are. I can give you that. I can give you power.
I hesitated. I was, I must admit, sorely tempted. "You've given me no reason to trust you," I said.
You have no reason not to trust me! I can give you everything!
"Or nothing."
You have fears for the world. You despise what it has become. Join me, and you can change it for the better.
"By your side? The power would be meaningless. I will not become a puppet."
You cannot hide. I know what you want.
And it was true. He knew what I wanted, what I wanted so, so badly. To know who, what I am. To realize my full potential. And yet, this was the creature who had created everything I hated so very, very much. For many long seconds I pondered my answer, torn. Despite my earlier statement I wanted power, I wanted to be able to change the world. Maybe I could save lives. Make the world a better place. If only I knew. At last I raised my head. "The answer is no."
The anger he projected was incredible. YOU BELONG TO ME! I CAN DESTROY YOU!
I unfurled my wings, stretched out my tendrils, raised my twisted hands in defiance and roared. He rose up and became a dragon, towering over even the church, and screamed. The sheer power made me step back and withdraw back into myself. "You don't scare me," I muttered.
I am everything you fear.
In the distance I saw dark fire in the sky, rapidly drawing closer. No, I thought, you wouldn't. And then it was there. The giant, right in front of me. I stared, silently scared, as it raised its arm. I wanted to close my eyes. I couldn't move.
The fist hit me square in the chest, driving me backwards. My ribs cracked like twigs, my innards smashed. Blood dripped from my mouth. I choked, barely standing, but managed to look up. "The answer is no." Then I walked away.
It was only once inside that I allowed myself to collapse against the door frame, breathing heavily. I limped to the front of the church, bowed my head towards the altar, and mumbled a few words of thanks. Then I went and sat amongst the shining ones until I felt better.

I can only hope I made the right decision. I know no good would have come of it, but I have to wonder; what if it had? Have I now resigned myself to never knowing the truth? Ever? I don't think I could bear that. And now I feel more broken than ever.
Perhaps there are other ways. I hope so.