• nominee: Master of the Macabre
They think I'm mad. Or they did. I'm a very fine actress. They think the meds are working--the meds I don't take, but keep buying for appearance's sake.
I remember growing up just twenty-odd years ago, I remember my family and going to school each morning. I remember going to university and the thrill of living on my own for the first time. I remember that it is not the first time at all. I remember those first lonely days on the shores of the Red Sea. I remember His last words to me, bidding me to be the demoness I'd soon become. I remember, centuries later, begging for Him to take it back, to forgive all I'd done and to speak to me again. I remember His silence and my revelation that He was not refusing to answer. He was not listening. Was not watching. He was gone and my fate was mine to determine.
I remember the long, painful road back to the mortal world... My doctors say some of these memories are not real--cannot be real. I know they are wrong.