Beyond Her Eyes.

"Sometimes, when I look into your eyes, I can see a whole other world in there," they didn't know how right they were, "but you never share it with anyone," she couldn't; there was no possible way that she could convey the horrors that she knew rested just beyond her eyes.

It was ironic really, that the one thing that had taught her it was time to move away from the fantasy, was the one thing that was keeping her mired in it. The fantasy crawled beneath her skin, whispering to her continuously, guiding and forcing her actions, trapping her mind so that there could be no escape.

No relief.

Sometimes she wondered if it was a sickness, something that had infected her and refused to release its' greedy hooks ("As the pain sweeps through…"). Or was it something that she had created ("…within you.")? Something that had grown powerful enough to overcome her, to control her ("Just let me rule you…"). Either way, she was trapped, but was it a cage of her own design ("Once upon a time…")?

She sighed and shifted, looking out at the world through the curtain of her long, dark hair. Instinctively she knew that there was nothing but a pale bedroom surrounding her ("Go back to your room…"), but somehow, superimposed above that, there were things stretching out here and there. Not normal things, not things that other people saw, not things that she wanted to see ("Thing are not always what they seem"). But she couldn't stop it ("Sometimes the way forward is the way back").

Reconciliation. 'What a terrible word,' she thought. It hadn't been about reconciliation, it had been about acceptance; it wasn't a matter of figuring out how it worked, simply understanding that it did. So why was it still hanging on to her? She had accepted ("I need you, all of you") as well as she could ("You have no power over me"), but…

The hooks tightened and a few more things appeared before her.

Why couldn't it just let her go? ("I can't live within you.") She was willing to move on ("I'd like you to have Lancelot now"), but she couldn't ("'ll never get back out again").

They were closing in on her now, large eyes bloodshot and hungry. A few reached out stick-like arms, but never made contact. The very thing that kept her sane was just the same as what was driving her crazy. If they never touched her she could neither prove their existence nor disprove it. One tiny creature, with a face like a bat, came just a little too close for comfort, forcing her to edge away. Because, really, she didn't want to know. The temptation was horrible, the curiosity nearly overwhelming, but either way the outcome was grim. She was either suffering from some sort of a psychotic breakdown or she was being haunted by something that had no right to be there.

"I want you all to leave. Right now," she whispered from behind her hair.

Sometimes they listened, but today they were persistent. "We can't," was the simple answer.

"Why not?"

("…you'll never get back out again.")

The silence stretched on for longer than was comfortable. "Why not?!" she finally demanded, harshly.

The air around her warped and twisted. Something shimmered. The hooks tighten fiercely, and her room was nearly filled with wonderful and monsterous creatures now.

From somewhere in the recesses of her own mind came the only answer she would ever get. "I can't live within you."

A/N: Not really a horror piece, though you can take it that way if you'd like. I was focusing more on the psychology of the whole matter (sort of Drop Dead Fred inspired). This is what happens when you spend too much time thinking about what Jareth meant when he said Within You. Another one-shot, not connected with anything else.

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Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable as having come from the movie Labyrinth.