It's true isn't it. This is the house I told you about.
You were thirteen. You climbed over the wall for a dare.
That's your surprise isn't it? Bringing me back here.
Remind me what it was that you sensed when you entered this deserted house. An aura of intense evil?
Don't you have things you hate?
I can't stand burnt toast. I loath bus stations. Terrible places. Full of lost luggage and lost souls.
I told you I never wanted to come back here again.
And then there's unrequited love. And tyranny. And cruelty.
We all have a universe of our own terrors to face.
I face mine on my own terms.