There was a time when I was happy. But this is over now. I will always think of her. And I'll never forget what I've done to her terrible. Many years ago ...
It all started with a little party at our house. Lyra's house. She was ten years old and I was 15 years old. Lyra was my sister, but she lived with father because mother and father had divorced. We played a game that Lyra had chosen. It was a made-up game in which it was to bring imaginary demons to life by one held a ceremony. That should all just be a fun, but when we spoke a few magical words,
Lyra was quite pale. We did not know what we should do, so we waited. And waited. And waited. But Lyra did´nt wake up again. We waited five minutes, then we called the ambulance. But for Lyra came too late to help. She was not breathing. She would never breathe again. Never. When I wanted to caress it the last time on the delicate face, her glassy eyes that had turned red opened. I knew that this was not normal. I knew something was wrong. If I could sleep at night since that day, I pursued dreams with demons and red, glassy eyes. Meanwhile, I'm 80 years old and have always but these eevil dreams. But something has changed. I have no more fear of the demons. I know that Lyra protect me, wherever they may be. You protected me. I'm happy again. And she's not a demon. For me, she is an angel. And if I die, I want to get there, and also so as to be a lyre. I want to make people happy. Even if they never come back into the real world.
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