I despise the Sun; I have grown up on the idea that I would burn if I left the comfortable shelter of my darkness. In a cloak of night I am safe, untouchable. Now you would aid my enemy in penetrating the protective walls hardened by my childhood.

I am content to be alone, to keep myself to myself, and I don't need you to dissect my mind. Would you open these wounds so that my soul could bleed onto you? I should caution you that it will stain your pretty dress. But if I have no soul, no one can take it from me.

I'll never have to go outside.