27. Despondency

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It first appears as a dark blanket of comfort.

"Rest," it whispers.

As soon as the blanket touches skin, it attaches, molding itself to become a second layer.

"It's okay to give in," it whispers.

The darkness crawls up my body, up my neck and over my head.

"Now," it whispers, "surrender yourself to me."

I don't have to nod. It already knows I won't fight it.

"Good girl," it whispers. "Now, close your eyes."

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