This is no place for a girl on fire.
Oh, and I suppose the apples ate the cheese.
It's the first gift that's always the hardest to pay back.
Let them go, I tell myself. Say good-bye and forget them. I do my best, thinking of them one by one, releasing them like birds from the protective cages inside me, locking the doors against their return.
Pity does not get you aid. Admiration at your refusal to give in does.
Besides, it's the first gift that's always the hardest to pay back. I wouldn't even have been here to do it if you hadn't helped me then.