I live in this house. This house of wolves.

We are a family, and we have our faults, but nothing can tear us away from each other.

However, there are wicked spirits that linger in the air. They attack us with nashing teeth, and chattering claws. We are blind to them, but they are there. They wait for us to be comfortable.

Mine come when I sleep. They whisper sweet songs into my ears. I believe them. I believe their lies. I am told of things that I know are not true, but I can not escape their torment.

I am left sicken, tired and hungry. I want to crawl away and hide. I want to plan their destruction.

But someone else tells me they are only shadows. Everyone tells me not to quiver.

I want to reach for their hands, and help me onto my own two feet. I want to stand beside these good people and laugh at these cold, dead figures of the past. And I will.

I just have to learn how to laugh again, and again, and again.