Forgive me because I can’t forgive myself. It is anger that is my sin; be it anger at others or anger at myself. Wrath burns through me in a white-hot intensity that only Hell-fire could match. I am cursed with an emotion as strong as love and as dark as love is pure. I am corrupted. Corruption tastes like copper. Or maybe that’s the taste of blood as I bite through my tongue again. The silence shreds my mind. It is not cleansing. I want to scream, but I am quiet. Everything is quiet here, except in my mind. My mind is never silent now. Too many demons fighting to be heard.  I try to speak, to beg for any noise to drown out the demons, but copper dribbles from my lips. Blood. I did bite my tongue again. Nurses sigh at me and tell me to open up. This is old to them. To me too. Nothing new or exciting for us today. I wonder again how it came to this. I used to be invincible. “Oh, how the mighty have fallen!” Once, I was a queen, was worshipped by my people. Now, I am surrounded by a constant white. I am trapped in a world where winter rules, not I. It is soft here. The nurses do not think I can be trusted. Ha! I was trusted by hundreds, thousands, once. But, perhaps, they are right. The demons demand more blood than just my own for the taking of my crown. They demand justice for this insubordination. That is not why I am here though. I would never speak that aloud. I am here because someone defied my wishes. As queen, I had every right to demand his head. The nurses did not agree. They robbed me of my kingdom and my crown, kept my subjects from me. There has been no word at all. As far as I know, my kingdom is still monarch-less. There will be war. Perhaps there already is. Other rulers will try to take it for their own. And who will defend my beloved lands without a queen to lead them into battle? But no. I am trapped here in eternal winter with no escape. They do not love, respect, or even fear me here. Not now. When they first brought me this land there was fear on all the faces. Nurses and prisoners alike. Once they brought me to the Winter Lands, the fear eased, ebbed. Here, they are ruler-less and godless. Here, I am powerless. The nurses take orders from a council, not a monarch. God is only revered by the prisoners. I am not revered at all. I have lost everything. But I am not hopeless. I am not godless. His Grace makes me fierce. I will regain my throne and have justice against this council that has stolen my life from me. By His Grace, by His Will, I will have the throne that He bequeathed unto me. The demons scream their approval in my head. They screech for blood and vengeance and I smile. It is not a pleasant smile. Rage pours through me, wrapping my in a comfortable and familiar blanket. I do not try to sooth it. I whisper sweet nothings to my wonderful rage and feel it flare. It has missed me too. The nurses of the Winter Lands have made a terrible mistake in the rush to stop the bleeding in my mouth. They did not stick me with their fuzzy medicine. I smile wider, so unpleasant, so welcome after all the fuzz. Demons roar in triumph. Laughter bubbles up my throat, my silence broken. I no longer choke on copper, now it fuels my rage further. The nurses see, the nurses fear. They may not respect me, but they fear me. Now. I am not powerless. Now I can prove it. Now they will know.