jane
She used to believe in the tooth fairy, then someone said it didn't exist. Same too with Father Christmas. Bit by bit her belief was chipped away at until there was nothing left. No belief. No magic left in life. Then they told her she had grown up; but all she'd grown was sad.
Flying high, feet touching the the sky
Baby laughing
So happy.
Never lose that joy
Baby of mine
Let your light shine
Always.
The lights went out. Darkness. She froze. There was no sound but the pounding of her heart. Then clunk. She jumped. What was that. Who was that. Was it him? Had he found her after all this time. Another clunk. She edged closer to the door. If it was him she would be ready for him. If she was close to the door maybe she could slip past him and run. Run as fast as she could. Clunk. It was getting louder. It was getting louder, wasn't it? Louder. And closer? Clunk. Her heart was straining in her chest. She had to get out. Clunk, clunk, clunk then...a different noise. A whirring sound. The generator. It was the generator all along. How could she have been so stupid. Of course he hadn't found her. She'd been so careful. She let out a sigh of relief and walked towards the door. She pulled it open, almost laughing at herself. And then she saw him. Her scream drowning out the sound of the generator as it came to life.
Crescent moon. Half-smiling in the dark night sky. What is it that amuses you?
A blast from the past. That's what he said. Words escaped me. My heart raced. How had he found me. I'd been so careful. I thought the nightmare had ended. I realised now that I was still asleep and dawn was a lifetime away.
It was a cursed day I met you. I was fooled by the clear blue sky and the the bright summer sun, but I should have noticed your shadow; the shadow that eclipsed me and brought darkness into my world. It was a cursed day then. I curse you now.
Flying high, above the world. Freed from the hand that held you down. Liberated. Soaring with the birds. Higher and higher. Towards the sun.
That's how it started, a flirt. And from there it grew, until the flirt became a relationship, and the relationship blossomed, but then wilted, and what was left? Nothing. Not you. Not us. Just the ghost of a flirt long since dead.
Professor Plum lost in the library - the clue is in the question. The question is in the books. Lost in words. Words create words. Lost in a world. A world without meaning. Words create meaning. What is the word? Give us a clue?