#powersofhell

"It was such a strange experience that I won't soon forget. For the first time in my life, I approached the presence of a void of sorts...the best way to express the sensation would be through the parallel of paints vanishing from a painter's easel. The colors of my mind seemed to quell...and..." she didn't wish to continue, her expression stilling uncharacteristically.

"It depends entirely on what you believe might be 'good.' Aunt Fauna and Merryweather are forever quarrelling on this point. For myself, I believe the devil may possess its own set of charms. As for every individual's fundamental nature, that's beyond my grade to assign."

"Father is as dear to my heart as Mother is! I adore them both so. Where Mother is warm, caring, and ever so vibrant, Father is the very pinnacle of imagination, sophistication, and considerate beyond belief. There are so many more qualities about my Father which I cherish, though I'll leave you with something of a recent discovery. I hadn't known until the other day that my Father took care to write all the invitations to my christening with his own hand. Of course, he is an expert at script, but what makes this all the more special is the sheer quantity of notices he must've crafted. You know, he took heed not to exclude any from the great ceremony...well, apart from one omission. But see how she, too, came and left her mark."

"My aunts were always such dears- they would find any excuse they could to adorn me in all the many contents of their shared chests! Though I often had to...tailor many of the ornaments they would bestow upon me, it was always such a happy time. Of them all, I'd chance to say my very favorite costume had been when Aunt Fauna fashioned me as a budding tree! It was quite a time ago, when I was a very small child. She secured a string of pearl grapes upon my forehead and a crown of foliage- it was quite the scene!" her heart expanded as memories of bygone holidays danced through her psyche. "We would always end the night by embracing one another by the chimney. There, Aunt Flora would dictate, in hushed tones, the important history of this marked day. Aunt Merryweather would chime in to warningly remind me to take care and not venture outside the confines of the cottage at nighttime. Especially on this, of all, nights. They mentioned spirits, of some sort, roaming freely throughout the forest, in search of something- but...but they always ended the tale there, never going on to tell me the names of these spirits nor what they were in search of. One year, I had prepared to ask- only to hear the fluttering of wings by the rooftops. It alerted my Aunts, and they rushed me into a secret hiding place. A place where there were no walls and therefore, according to my Aunt Flora, no 'ears."