Our Deepest Fear
Our Deepest Fear Is Not That We Are Inadequate.
Our Deepest Fear Is Not That We Are Inadequate.
Always? Always. “I will love you always.”
She ran. The sharp graveled road leaving splinters in her skin.
Scream.
“Shadows— they were fun to play with slippery gasses not quiet solid, but not quite liquid. easy to manipulate… …hard to escape.” – Queen of Shadows ~ At first the room was white. Solid. Pallid. Empty. I stood there a moment, taking in my surroundings, figuring out an escape. Only there was none. I turned around, fear in my throat, adrenaline coursing through my veins . . . The door was gone. But it was just . . . “Hello?” I called, voice catching in my throat. With a wince I swallowed, my mouth dry, my tongue thick. Hello? I thought. What did she want with me? I’d heard stories about the Queen of Shadows, a women heard but never seen. It was said that those who heard her voice never lived to tell the tale. But if that was so, how did I know they’d heard it? The fact alone gave me hope. I stood taller. “Hello?” I called again. I took a step forward and stopped. The ground trembled. The floor shook and then the ground behind …