This is the attic. Its many walls frame who i am, who i will become.

It is placed in a world far from here, yet never leaves the boundaries of this attic. It is a strange world, it is my world.

If you have already become familiar with my house, i now invite you to become familiar with me.

This is the story of how i became 'me'. And how, if the fates be willing, how you can become 'me'. Just live the experience, as i introduce you...

Space is quiet. Dark. You stand with me at the mountain on the edge of the woods. The air is humid, a stench rancid and stale. Fear is prevelant as we face a hole in the rock. Out of the mouth of the cave emits a thick, black smoke. The breath is carried on the wind and it spreads throughout the forest. It slithes around trees and dirties your skin. A pair of golden eyes peer through the smoke in the cave. They glow with anticipation. It is the dragon and he waits patiently. Hungrily. Ready to devour. Don't be afraid to close your eyes. He expects it. You must believe when i tell you it's all very painless. You must be the first to move, to make this a sacrifice, not a murder. Approach him softly, courageously, and at least you will gain his respect before he rips you apart. You will see him and you will not be frightened. His coat of purple scales. His webbed wings of green, the silver teeth. Sharpened claws with nails nine inches long. He wears a crown of bone and in his back is written a contract which you will sign with your blood. He takes your life, but he will not kill you. He wants your soul and he will leave you feeling less human than before he touched you. You will not cry for he will suck your eyes dry. But you will not want to, for your heart will feel as cold as his tepid skin, as limpid as his breath upon your face. His tongue will leave marks of red as it burns your flesh. His very touch will cause your skin to shed in great layers and it will make you cringe with abhorance as you discover what lies underneath. He feasts on your cries and your screams for mercy. Yet his voice is gentle, and with your eyes closed you will think you are in the presence of an angel, even as his fiery air melts your skin. He swallows without chewing and there in his stomach you will sit, waiting to rot, to decay. And just as you think your next breath is to be your last, he will spit you up- whole. Except a piece of your soul will be missing and you will feel less human than you did before. As i have told you- it is not really as bad as you think- if you should survive.

Then, and only then, you will know what it is to be me.

And now, i thank the giver, my dragon. You know who you are. i would never have been who i now am without you.

The graphics on this page belong to Elizabeth Mitchell, copyright April 1999, and were created especially for The Keep of The Dreaming. Do not fold, spindle, or mutilate: In other words, do not borrow (re: STEAL) without permission. That's what we call illegal, boys and girls.