The Dream (pt. 2)

She stood against the doorframe with a patience that betrayed her childlike visage. Her smile was haunting, boring into me with nothing but malice. The white of her dress was far from pristene. The dingy laced thing mirrored the atmosphere of the room. She belonged there, but it was not the room’s choice, she made herself belong. Or rather she made the room belong.
As we stood there in silence, my brain started to grab hold of reason. I noted a disturbance in the dust upon the floor that led to my current position. I followed it from my feet out the door and back. It passed directly under the little cherub of hate. Her smile made my confusion unbearably frustrating. My mind raced to find a logical answer to the questions.
No conclusion made sence, nothing added up. Panic pulled at the edges of my perception. The chair, a place to rest and make sence of this debacle. As I sat, I considered the last place I had been and when. I grew tired. I just closed my eyes to think. Slowly, I drifted away.

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