pure poison

by Airway Static

Memories and fairy tales go about as well together as hammers and mirrors. When you press too hard, you'll always end up with broken shards. As to whether they're glass or a heart, does it really make a difference?

She says she wants to know, wants to find out what lies in those fragments of memory that she's missing. She has to know.

But does she really?

It doesn't matter. It just has to be done.

But does she want to; that's the real question. Does she really want to approach that can of corpses? Voluntarily, all of her own volition?

Because what happens when she does find out-or others find out for her? They might discover that what her memories contain isn't as charming as that first golden garden scenery might lead them to believe. It might be horrifying, or worse, exactly what she expected.

And what she's expecting isn't very gruesome but it's just as terrible in its own way. Just like those unfinished fairy tales with the open endings that leave you wondering whether everybody really did live happily ever after, what if her memories gave her that same feeling?

What if they were nothing special at all?

What will she do if they just leave her hanging, ending without answering her big question?

Why am I even here?

If her past can't answer that question, she doubts anything can. And by the time she figures that out, there will be no where else to go.

I'm scared.