Even as a babe confined to my cradle, they were still there. Bleeding bats and ashen corpses slithered through my mind's labyrinth, scattering their moltings across my mental terrain....flickering their evil little tongues. My thoughts were slain and replaced by Satan’s, many before they fully blossomed.  The word of God was ablated with a single shard of flint and 

monsters reigned in glory, as my dreams withered into his own. It was his glory of death and fire entwined. And I was the one dying. Out of pity, the beasts gave me a crude little box to 

store my memories in, but it was so cramped that as each new memory entered, an old one melted into the constellations. But I was strong. As my memories faded away, I remained stoical. I tried to forget how a dragon's scale shimmers in a world painted in hues of gray. I  tried to forget the warmth of a sister's smile or the love in a brother's laugh. I could not hold onto anything for too long or it would sew seeds in my head too painful to eradicate. It was better to forget. 

  Or t’was so until one Hallows Eve. The night was freshly spawned by the sky, like spider hatchlings trickling down their mother's silk. The wind seeped through the walls and into my bed, nipping at my skin with autumn chill. I crumpled my body, folding my arms tightly around my chest to prevent my soul from lithificating.Then came a cackle colder than the wind disturbing my slumber. It echoed, pulsing in the air and into my ears with defiance. I was thrown to the floor by an invisible force and plagued by convulsions. My head burned: there was a scream so piercing that it stabbed Orion's nebulae in the heart. Stardust enshrouded the ground and my frock was dripping in mud and worms. I shivered, suddenly aware  that I was outside. Panting, I ran in whatever direction seemed right at the time, searching for help. My legs soon began to throb and were too sore to walk any farther. I collapsed with the chirping of frogs 

suddenly lapsing in an eerie silence around me. They leered, as if conspiring to kill me. I drew my sword and locked my knees in fear. Moments later, I fainted. When I awoke, two beautiful maddens were standing over me. They gently pulled me up and I was suddenly wearing a new frock. 

“Who are you?” I muttered, still groggy. 

“Messengers,” they chimed. I noticed that their eyes shot right past me, as if they were speaking to someone in the distance. I whipped around, but no one was there. 

“Messengers sent by whom?” 

“The Sparrow Goddess.” 

“And what message have you brought for me?” A scroll appeared before me, surrounded by an aurora of dust and light. I reached for it, but it snapped back before I could catch it. The  maidens unrolled it and read: 

“Her Royal Highness, The Sparrow Goddess of Birds Near and Far, witnessed the occurrences of last night and wishes to help you---” 

“What happened last night?” I interrupted. 

“Your dearest memory was stolen,” they whispered. 

I gulped. “What was my dearest memory?” 

They paused and glanced at each other. “The day you received a fledgling from your father when he returned from Jerusalem. The last fledgling of Eden.” 

I hesitated, hoping I could rummage through my memory box for a picture of that fledgling, its glossy feathers, delicate talons....nothing. 

“I can’t,” I finally admitted, “I can’t rememeber.” 

“That’s why we’re here.” 

They took me by the arms and spread feathered wings.They hovered above the bog for a few moments and fluttered away as my questions drowned into the depths of the clouds and castle tops. When we landed, we were outside an iron gate taller than the highest hill I’d ever  seen. 

“Where are we?” I gasped. 

“Pluto’s kingdom,” they responded in voices more tranquil than the sea. 

            “No! I have committed no sin! I am innocent! INNOCENT!” 

The maidens bent over and planted a peck on each of the gate’s bars. As it creaked open, I attempted to escape, but found my feet embedded in the soil. Their fingers danced to their spell’s soothing melody and I slowly rose from the ground, into their arms. As we flew away again, I felt myself growing calmer against my will. 

“We are here to find your dearest memory,” the maidens explained. 

“Why is it here?” 

“It was stolen by Satan.” 

And all was black. 

 When I awoke, my chin was resting on a lark’s nest. 

“Pick one,” the maidens instructed, “but choose wisely.” 

Three eggs vibrated, each demanding to be selected. 

“One of these eggs harbors your dearest memory. If you choose it, your mind  will belong you forever and never be subject to Satan again.” 

I shivered. “And if I don’t choose that one?” 

“You will become Satan's eternal slave.” They pointed to disheveled creatures in the distance, carrying sacks of salt on their backs and moaning in agony. 

“But how will I know which one to---” 

“Do what you must.” 

The eggs seemed identical in all physical aspects; they even vibrated in unison.But I had to choose an egg and I had to choose it by myself. I took one from the nest and rotated it in my hand several times, but it was hallow---as was the next one. The last one however, had something in it that sloshed against its shell. 

“This one,” I insisted confidently, “this is the egg I choose.” The egg wiggled out of my hand and suspended itself above the nest. It cracked open and spillled its contents into my quivering palm. I poured the silver puddle into the nest and saw it mold itself into a baby bird. 

“You have  chosen correctly.” The other two eggs transformed into gray gargoyles and then  left with a puff of smoke. I scooped the bird up, stroking its beak. 

“Eden! Your name is Eden! I remember now...” 

The maidens beamed and winked. A moment later, I was pasted to my sheets, rolling back and forth as a crow wailed in the distance. My Eden had been restored.