There's that one moment—an instant, really—of infinite possibility, where light and darkness shine into your heart in equal measure. For some reason, people think you're supposed to know what you'll do, right off the bat. What a lie. For an instant, the whole world seems like a lie to you. The sky isn't really the limit, the ocean can't really take you anywhere, and goodness knows your world is hardly solitary. You've always wondered, though, and often found yourself thinking maybe you ought to reign in your wondering, the way you can only swim out so far into the ocean before drowning—or so they say, like the way you can't tell anyone about the Secret Place.
In all actuality, you're scared out of your mind. Even though the Islands are kind of boring at times, even though you should be excited, even though you resent the others for binding you here—you can't deal with it, you don't want to satiate your longing. You can't handle this; you're not even ready for this. In fact, you're pretty sure everyone knows that. So why is Fate shoving you headfirst onto this path you haven't chosen?
It doesn't matter, actually. Fate's always treated you like a water-bound buoy. So you look up at the sunless sky one last time before heading to the door in the Secret Place and, whether you realize it or not, shrouding your heart with darkness.
Nothing belongs to me!
