Slay your demons, he says. So she does.
She takes her knife and she slays them dead.
And it's good. It's grand even. She feels great.
Life is downright swell.
And then everything is bad, all over again, and she is the bad thing and she slays the demon.
The nice lady comes and makes her better, give her herbs and bitter things to drink.
She is surprised to find she doesn't dream at all. All her demons are dead.
She is good, and when she can walk she gets to play with the horse. And there's no more bad. She's killed her demons. She doesn't have to be afraid.
She is ready to be strong.
The missiles come in the night, and she wakes to soft whistles and heat and light and – pain – and – the crash of the wall and the sound of – of -