It's dark in here. Sound is pulsing, like a heartbeat. What light is red, like blood. But not in a bad way. Blood isn't always bad. It keeps us alive. The red blood light represents warmth and life.
I look around. I'm comfortable here. This is where I am always.
The lion comes from the darkness, forming himself in the pits of my mind.
"Where have you been?" I ask.
He scowls at me, "I could ask you the same thing."
I'm confused. I've always been here. He can come and go as he pleases. But I don't.
"You know what I mean," he says, as if reading my mind.
"But I've been here, always."
"But you've changed. You're not you."
"I'm still me."
"No. You're different. You don't have that spark. You knew me for seven years, at the least. But you threw me away. What am I now to you?"
The words are caught in my throat. I reach out to him. I've missed him.
"No," he says, turning away, "Don't touch me."
And with that, he walk away. Disapearring into the darkest corners of my mind.