He knows what it is of course, having one himself, a shadow, in a sense, ever so dark, ever so threatening, always there. He's used to it by now, the frail body, the crystaled eyes, the graying hair. He would be a healthy baby, that's what the doctors had said no?
Yet a magician, perhaps an oracle, heard a prophecy. Such a damned prophecy it was the one that ruined his life, a second after his first breath. It's all because of another magician with white
ย hair - the irony- that Norman even has to die.
He cannot live, for a curse is cast upon him. He knew this since three, his parents had been honest at the very least. It was meaningless, making ties, when they'd only be cut by obsidian scissors today, if he was being optimistic, tomorrow.
How could he not form ties with sweet Emma? How could he not form ties, when she smiled those smiles, which like a sun made his dark thoughts disappear, for hours to no end?
How could he not love Ray when he had seen the boy's tender and caring side, which Norman couldn't help but love?ย
He was cruel, Norman knew, to himself, the others as well. He was like a dark curse upon others' life, and much like his own curse, he'd leave the others destroyed. He was devil himself, evil, cruel, yet had the smile of an angel. How ironic.
"Yes, the home-work essay is for curses, why?" Ray asks
"Nothing," Norman replies
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