Around me in the darkness a phantom danced.
I watched it move like ink made smoke with a human form. I loved it, hated it, and knew it came from my madness.
I wanted it to be madness, but I wondered if it was truly just in my head. Had I been away from reality so long that my mind could no longer recognise what was tangible and what was a figment of my imagination? How long had it been since I was placed in the tower, my solitary prison, made to watch not only the shadows that danced, but the world continue on without me?
The years had come and gone, how many though, I did not know. Maybe fifty years? Maybe even more? Too many to count. Maybe the Fae should never be left alone.
I shifted my painful body. It was my tower, my punishment and my own personal prison. Had I deserved it? Some part of me screamed yes, but I knew that Dolan did it and I couldn't have stopped him when it mattered most. It was not my fault, I couldn't have stopped what happened, just like how I couldn't stop the screaming that echoed in my head, or the image of the little girl dressed in red, lying motionless on the floor from plaguing me.
Moving with the shadows into the corner of the room, I dragged the weight of my endless white hair to escape from the sinking light of the sun that poured in from the window. The window with no bars nor glass; a desolate prison which is meant to be my defeat; destroying whatever hope that could possibly remain within me, leaving only despair, sorrow and my own distorted memories to break whatever was meant to be my soul.
That was the joke, I guess, a prison without chains. Well, not the kind that one could see. And I hated Dolan for it, for everything. My story never was a fairytale, though, and I always knew that my prince would never come for me—he was the one who had put me in the tower in the first place.
No, I would have no savior. But I was going to be free, no matter what the cost.