I will not close my eyes.                 I will not sleep,                 Nor will I dream. For the cold sweat chills me,                 The clenched fists,                 Blood curling screams.                 They are my own.                 I know not why                 They choose to visit now, But I must escape it—                 This sleeping hell.                 I will escape somehow.

 

It had to work, it had to… but it didn’t.

Oh, how my niece sickened me! I was in the depths of the sickly poor, and she had a huge fortune. I suffered horribly; a single piece of bread for supper, and she had a wonderful feast all her own. If only I could get my hands, dirty and weathered as they were, on the huge supply of money locked up in her guardian’s attic!