Not all prisons have bars

You have so much going on. It comes off like a..." "Static?" I suggested. "Exactly!" He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. "You need to tune it, get your frequencies in check, like a radio." "I would love to.Just tell me how." "It's not a matter of turning a dial. You have no on or off switch." He walked around in a large lazy circle. "It's something you have to practice. It's more like being potty-trained. You have to learn when to hold it and when to release." "That's a pretty sexy analogy," I said.

When I said it aloud, it sounded terribly creepy, which is why I had said it aloud.

Right then, it didn't matter what his reasons were. All I knew that I was sick of him breaking my heart.

I don’t know. After the downstairs, I assumed something creepier and dirtier.” I shrugged. “You didn’t have electricity down there.” “It’s for dramatic effect.” Loki gestured widely. “It’s a dungeon.

Yeah, you're probably right," I admitted and slowly pulled myself out from underneath the covers. "You know, I really wish you'd catch onto the fact that I'm always right.

My mom has a tape from when I was, like, 2 years old, talking with my grandma, telling her a story that's really elaborate about werewolves and wolves.