The little shards of sleep that they allowed her turned into razors, slicing at her wits.

“Minds are like swords, I do fear. The old ones go to rust.”

“You heard me. Go away.But... where should I go?To hell or home, as you prefer.”

“You look different now. Like a proper little girl.""I look like an oak tree, wi…”

“Sometimes I think everyone is just pretending to be brave, and none of us reall…”