It was an early morning when the fog began. Everything seemed so hazy. It was as if it was almost a dream. Or that of the likes. It’s been years since I added to my dead circus. It’s been even longer since I visited my aristocratic vampire academy. It’s been ten years since I visited the sacrilegious killer in the painting. The one who craved womens souls.
Lately I’ve been trapped within the walls of Reide once again, alike to my childhood. I suppose it’s hard to move on from something within your head. It always chases and keeps hold.
As I write these words I can hear the silhouettic music that frames my minds walls. I find it helps paint a picture. Right now I can feel where Alira fought the centaurs and other dark creatures. She had to verse the dark in order to find herself. Though I can’t recall all of her story I know that she never got to find Max, who was her destiny. And all because I never wrote it.
Raine has become more twisted in my mind. It’s almost as if I caused this. I recently found a sketch of him that I’d long forgotten, just like his persona, and it reminded me of who he was. I don’t know if it’s my minds way of maturing or if it’s his revenge for being left in the dark for all those years.
Reide always guides me and for that I am thankful. I wonder if he can protect me from the darkest places in my mind. I wonder if there are people within my wonderlands walls that wish me harm. I suppose I should keep my synthetic memories alive by bringing them to light.