Monstrous

In my books, there is always a prince, and he always happens upon the damsel in the most unexpected places.

Jealousy is a very stupid thing. It only leaves the bitterest taste behind-regret.

You can only cry so much until your life is wept away.

Perhaps music is a sort of magic.

I do not know about magic, but words are powerful things indeed.

I am creature of the night and dark corners.

Father says I'm perfect, but would a prince agree if he knew what I was made of? Would he value me for the usefulness of my parts, or for the contents of my heart? Or would he only value me as a prize to slay the monsters in the story?

I will never forget my first breath. Gasping. Heaving. Delicious.