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"No."

I wasn't going to let her go. She didn't belong in that house. She didn't belong in my prescence. She had already gotten too far, and I refused to let her sink farther into the metaphorical tar pit that was my soul.

I turned, and began to walk away. I felt as if the air was a veil, and I was cutting smoothly through it.

"Why not?" she asked, jogging to catch up with me.

"Because. It's a bad place."

"So?"

I stopped, and turned to her. Her jaw was set stubbornly, and her lower lip stuck out slightly in a pout. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight mostly on her right leg, leaning slightly away from me.

"Please. Just go inside."

She looked at me, her dark eyes determined. She didn't say a word to me, though, just kept looking at me. Staring into my eyes. Seeming to search my soul.

And I wondered what she found.