I desperately want to know what’s going on, who’s saving me, where I am, but my mind can’t hold on to more than the gentle lullaby whispered by the deep voice above me. It’s soothing and exhilarating. Heavenly and sinful, like a true demon of music, lulling me to trust him. I don’t fight it. For the first time since my dad died, I feel comforted despite the roiling pressure in my mind. I crave the acceptance of my demon’s embrace.
