I hate the darkness. Always reminding me of my childhood basement.
The silence lets my mind wander. Often getting lost.
No matter, here I sit. Locked in the library.
Confined by darkness. Patrons have gone away.
Night descends upon the building.
Yet here I remain. I wander the halls. How is it I came to be here?
Looking for my way out. One minute, I was reading.
Enthralled in the plot. Wrapped up in the theme.
The next minute darkness. Forgotten here.
Put down like, a poorly written story.
I run to the books. They have always been my guide.
They glow with the light of magic. Even in intense darkness.
They draw me in. Calling and beckoning me.
My hands trace the letters. Lost in the dust.
Just like me, waiting to be uncovered.
As they glow, I pick one up and dust it off.
I flip through the pages. The words jump off the page.
The backdrop on the library fades into the darkness.
A new place begins to take form.
The magic transports me away from here.
Unto a magical land of possibilities,
I leave this world. I leave the pain of the past.
Trading memories of him. For the hope of new love.
Trading fear for adventure.
Trading hurt for healing.
I walk about the new land a free woman.
The grass, the greenest green I have ever seen.
The air, light as a feather. Sweet scents of flowers
dance upon the breeze.
The flowers smile at me as I brush past.
The sea sits tranquil behind me. The smell of the sea, a comfort.
I wander still, further in. Feeling lighter with every step.
Headed for majestic mountains and a land of milk and honey.
History lies in the mountains. Layer by layer the stories of the people.
A land much like the promise land. A place where happiness and love abide.
Along the way, dragons of old soar in the sky.
Casting their large shadows upon the earth below.
Languages unknown float on the breeze.
Repeating primordial stories of heroes and gods.
Castles of grandeur loom ahead. Beckoning me to come in.
Their invitation I gladly accept.
Dining with queens and kings. Laughing at court jesters.
I am safe within their walls. A feeling unknown to me.
Wars may rage on the outside, but peace is still with me.
The time has come to leave the fortress. Trade my peace in for a battle.
Upon a noble steed, I ride. To face down, fear personified.
The ground beneath my feet, the wind in my hair,
faster and faster, I ride. Rushing past the trees of the forest.
Gliding over the fields of the prairie.
my noble steed knows no fear.
As he leaps into the air,
jumping over creeks so fair.
Dragons, ghosts, and goblins alike.
Listen upon the wind and hear my battle cry.
"No more, will you capture and terrify."
The monster awaits my arrival.
He stands in terrifying form.
Like my childhood nightmares, he snarls and growls.
Claws gleaming in the light.
His teeth inspiring fright.
Imbued with evil that seeps from his black skin.
The monster is as old as time itself.
Upon his back, he carried the bones of his past opponents.
All of which has failed.
My sword was at the ready,
but my fear grew immensely.
My sword comes down upon the beasts, blow after blow.
I fight with all my strength. I do not know if this is a battle I can win.
Or if the fear will overtake me this night.
For the battle is not just of this world.
But also, a battle of the mind.
The beast possesses special magic.
Drudging up your deepest fears.
The past flashes before my very eyes,
I watch him take what is not his,
I watch him chase me up the hall,
And back down again.
I watch my tears flow as I cower in the corner.
"Protect the baby" I hear myself whisper.
The memories are too strong.
The magic of the demons is winning.
In my last attempt to overcome this evil,
with all my might I plunge my sword into the monster.
The blood and pain flow freely.
No longer do the memories plague me.
Clear is my mind, and light is my heart.
I have won the war. Declared the victor,
I stand in the field. Weak with exhaustion.
Covered in the blood of the demon.
The wind roars my name.
The people sing my praise.
But unworthy am I. I am but a person.
I am not a goddess or hero. I am but human.
I have fears I bleed red, as all living things do.
The smell of the flowers is even sweeter.
The sun has come to see the victory of life over death.
I drink in the moment like sweet wine.
I become drunk on joy.
Upon my horse, I mount once more,
retreating to the fortress to lick my wounds.
For like any war, it is not without injury.
I enter the iron gates. They close behind me.
A heavy clank signifying my safety,
music plays in the courtyard, singing of my bravery.
Retreating to my chambers, I climb the stone stairs.
I lay upon the softest bed, covered in pure satin.
My eyes are heavy, and my body is tired.
The satin sheets envelop me as I drift off to sleep.
The story goes on as I sleep.
People fall in and out of love.
Some get married and others die.
Babies are born and they grow up and repeat the cycle.
The cycle of life and the cycle of the story,
As for me, I awake, much to my delight.
I find that someone has turned on the lights.
Once more, I find that I have returned.
As though I have never left.
Every night is just the same.
For I am the ghost of the stories,
like a well-told story, I am immortal.
I remain after everyone has gone.
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