The little birdie chirruped inside my head. Its voice was deep and so cold that my soul trembled. My tongue wanted to tell the secrets the birdie told me to keep but my brain told it not to. Sanity left and as a result reason was confused. No one knew what I knew. No one felt what I felt. The birdie wanted me to kill the little girl. I was born a killer. I was a killer. But another birdie told me not to touch her. The chirping was so loud now I couldn't hear the thoughts I owned. The words bashed my skull in until logic seeped from my brain. Silence held the birdie’s tongue when my son was with me. Darkness hid his name but I knew it because the other birdie told me. His name was Cyric. I should have hid in a land far far away but he would find me. He always found me. I pushed his voice deep down into the back of my head and he stayed there for a while until he asked me again to kill her. I fought him for a long time. I lost the fight today and I asked my son to kill her. I was left alone with my thoughts but I know not for long for the birdie was my master and I was its pawn.