I
despise the
Sun; I have grown up on the idea that I would
burn if I left the comfortable
shelter of my
darkness. In a
cloak of night I am
safe,
untouchable. Now you would aid my
enemy in penetrating the protective
walls hardened by my
childhood.
I am content to be alone, to keep myself to myself, and I don't need you to dissect my mind. Would you open these wounds so that my soul could bleed onto you? I should caution you that it will stain your pretty dress. But if I have no soul, no one can take it from me.
I'll never have to go outside.