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June 17 - June 28, 2025
death didn’t discriminate between paradise and hell.
Man had a funny way of blaming the devil for things he didn’t like.
A good book was its own brand of magic, one I could safely indulge in without fear of getting caught by those who hunted us. I loved escaping from reality, especially during times of trouble. Stories made everything possible.
An ember of anger was slowly igniting within me, reducing the person I used to be to ash.
At times my simmering rage was the only indication I was still alive.
In the end, the monster we feared didn’t come from Hell. He came from privilege.
This was not the kind of prince written about in fairy tales. There was no golden crown sitting atop his dark head, or promises of safety waiting in his sculpted, tattooed arms. He was death and rage and fire and anyone stupid enough to forget that would be consumed by his inferno.
I miss you. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but you’re only alone if you choose to be, Emilia. Please don’t forget that you’re still living and are loved. And, if you let me, I can help.”
Greed in its many forms made an appearance. There was greed for power, wealth, attention—excess was the poison of choice here, and patrons couldn’t seem to get their fill.
Maybe Wrath had decided to send me to my death armed with an impossible scheme. Diabolical demon.
Very hard to kill wasn’t impossible to kill. A silver lining if ever there was one.
Life hurt. All pleasure was gone. Anything that once held meaning was long forgotten, buried deep in a void I couldn’t break through.
“My world is broken down into one simple principle: I believe I’m powerful, therefore I am.
We traded kisses like blows. And if this were a fight, I wouldn’t know who was winning.
“Love is the most powerful magic. Above all else, remember that. It will always guide you where you need to go.”
If my enemies wanted to create doubt in me, I’d believe in my own abilities even more. Even if I had to fake it until it felt real.
