The Silent Companions

This is what happens to me, Jo. I trust people and they abuse that trust.

why did I trust her; how could I be so foolish; why would she betray me like that?

At least madness had power. It did not make her sound puerile, a girl dreaming of fairies and unicorns.

Sarah? She underlined the w

This was how she had won before – fighting through the pain. She could do it. She could make her body do anything. She had learnt the hard way.

No torture could be more maddening: to hear and not to see; to be powerless while he howled.

Death, once conceived, was rapacious. It took all with it.

Did evil have wants and needs? Surely not, surely that would make it too human.

what really scares us? It is not things that go bump – or even hiss – in the night. Our fears are much closer than that. We are afraid of the things inside us – be they memories, sickness or sinful urges

Did people know when they were going insane? she wondered. Did they feel the weave of their mind ripping apart? Or was it like passing into a gentle dream-world?

The thunder cracks outside. My fevered imagination hears a cry, rising up from the night. Yet there is nothing, not even a fox outside my window.