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I'm trying to focus, telling myself these are just empty words, but I'm lying. Because somehow, just reading these words is too much.

And I begin to realize that some small part of me doesn't want to wish away the thoughts of her. Some part of me enjoys the torture. This girl is destroying me.

I can't control a nightmare, but in my waking moments her name is the only reminder I will permit myself.

She is a soft, deadly creature. Kind and timid and terrifying. She's completely out of control and has no idea what she's capable of. And even though she hates me, I can't help but be fascinated by her. I'm enchanted by her pretend-innocence; jelous, even, of the power she wields so unwittingly. I want so much to be a part of her world. I want to know what it's like to be in her mind, to feel what she feels. It seems a tremendous weight to carry.