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Come rid my mind of these awful things
May. 20th, 2018 08:13 pmMay 5th, 2018:
She feels so foolish. And probably a lot of other things, though with the demon gone -- and the music with him -- 'foolish' is the one that looms largest, and requires the least parsing. She should have known better than to make any errant wishes, and now she's made one that killed people, and could have killed more.
And to think, she'd just thought it was so convenient that Darrow was doing something that suited her, for once. It hadn't even occurred to her that it might all be her fault, when all was said and done.
She's fairly certain she doesn't deserve comfort, after everything. But she still clings to Thomas's hand all the way back to the cottage, grateful that he's still with her, that he came to her rescue, like something out of a fairy tale. Whether she deserved it or not.
The cottage looks warm and inviting in the gathering dusk -- the opposite of that dark, dusty theater -- and Greta lets out a breath at the sight of it. She squeezes Thomas's hand before releasing it, needing both of hers to unlock and open the front door as quickly as possible.
And there are the dogs, nosing at her hands, unaware of any reason they shouldn't welcome her home with as much enthusiasm as any other day. There's the sitter to be dealt with, but Greta can't bring herself to look the girl in the eye just yet (what if she knew someone who was hurt in all the trouble Greta caused?). Instead, she looks for Saoirse, needing to know that the lass is all right.
She feels so foolish. And probably a lot of other things, though with the demon gone -- and the music with him -- 'foolish' is the one that looms largest, and requires the least parsing. She should have known better than to make any errant wishes, and now she's made one that killed people, and could have killed more.
And to think, she'd just thought it was so convenient that Darrow was doing something that suited her, for once. It hadn't even occurred to her that it might all be her fault, when all was said and done.
She's fairly certain she doesn't deserve comfort, after everything. But she still clings to Thomas's hand all the way back to the cottage, grateful that he's still with her, that he came to her rescue, like something out of a fairy tale. Whether she deserved it or not.
The cottage looks warm and inviting in the gathering dusk -- the opposite of that dark, dusty theater -- and Greta lets out a breath at the sight of it. She squeezes Thomas's hand before releasing it, needing both of hers to unlock and open the front door as quickly as possible.
And there are the dogs, nosing at her hands, unaware of any reason they shouldn't welcome her home with as much enthusiasm as any other day. There's the sitter to be dealt with, but Greta can't bring herself to look the girl in the eye just yet (what if she knew someone who was hurt in all the trouble Greta caused?). Instead, she looks for Saoirse, needing to know that the lass is all right.
