I close the door behind me, letting myself drop onto the couch as my mind wandered towards my recent conduct. I’m left going over all the things I said; it’s not like I was exactly wrong on any of those accounts, but it didn’t feel like I was the one saying them, and I probably wouldn’t go out of my way to say things as harsh and cutting as those I had said today. I was technically the one going to the ball, but it didn’t even really feel like me anymore. It felt so little like me, in fact, that I hardly felt most of the things that I should’ve felt back when I was talking with Jack or the Baron.

I shamble from the couch to the mirror in the bathroom, exhaling as I saw a familiar figure behind me. She looked like me, but not quite the same. Perhaps it wasn’t me at the wheel that time but her, an unfeeling, unflinching entity, that shields herself with cynicism and keeps emotions at bay, seeing life as nothing more than a trap to inflict pain, like an iron maiden. Iron Maiden… I think that’s a fitting enough name for her.

I head back to the couch, settling myself down upon it. I’ve been letting her take the lead recently, in all her cruelty and bitterness, but living like this isn’t so bad. With her leading the way, at least, I could set the pain aside and simply coast along in her shadow.

Deep down inside, I know I should take control back from her, carry the weight myself, but my soul’s tired from all the marching in the mud. It wouldn’t be so bad to just give it a rest for a while…

Right?