In a hotel room where demons play there's a little girl.
She stands in the corner; fearful of what she is, as well as what they are.
They're all the same.
Broken in this world of dead.
Breaking in this world of art.
She's not the girl she used to be but that's okay.
Yes that's okay because fear is abandonment in a bottle. It's prosper in ways of unimaginable damage. It's cut and paste among the public eyes.
Thus the little girl; created then stripped of life unwillingly; is dead.
Her soul forever punishable in the recesses of her own mind.
Worshiping the diseased in private with hopes to leave this world "unwillingly." A spell casted by those she worships.
She doesn't want to end her life but she doesn't want to live it either.
Months pass and the girl who used to dance with fire and play with pixies is hearing voices, the secrets of those on the other side. Telling her how and what to do on command. She's not afraid to preform these actions; hurting herself as well as others.
She has lost herself.
Finally, one night, the demon takes her to a hotel convincing her life isn't worth it anymore and that if she ends it the demon will too. She dies that very night. But the love of her life, deceiving indeed, does not.
In a hotel room where demons play a little girl stands in the corner; watching as one she once loved... deceives many more. She; unwilling to stop the terror she herself once subdued.