She had found the book while going through her mother's things, right next to a play called The King in Yellow. The play had been a pretentious, and ultimately uninteresting thing so she hadn't bothered to read beyond the first act. But the old leather-bound grimmoire... she had no idea her mom was into this stuff.

When she had showed it to her father, he had looked sad and said: "your mother was an... extraordinary woman, Taylor. In more ways than one." So she had resolved to study it, if only for her mother's sake. Beside, it's not like even a book called The Trigonomicon could be more fake than that biography of the Triumvirate, right?

So here she was, on new year's eve, in the middle of the night, sitting in the middle of her room next to an elaborate diagram circled by candles. The diagram was mere chalk: no need for silver, mercury, or virgin's blood. She had that last one in ample supply, but she was still glad she didn't have to cut herself up. No need to give Emma more reasons to make fun of her. Despite the open windows, the smoke stung her eyes. Maybe she shouldn't have gone for the cheapest candles she could find. The book was on her lap, open to the relevant page. It detailed the instruction for summoning "a being bearing answers". At the top of the page was drawn -drawn, not printed- an eye within a pyramid. The Eye of Providence, a representation of God's all-knowing gaze. Exactly what she needed. If it worked, she might learn what the hell was up with Emma.

At the exact moment her clock told her it was midnight, she began chanting. A short incantation, repeated three times. She didn't know the language, or even what language it was, nor could she read the strange glyphs, but a phonetic translation was provided. Not even a minute had gone by before she was finished. A few more before she had to admit to herself it wasn't working.

Maybe she should have cut herself, after all. Or maybe, just maybe this had been a stupid idea and what had she been thinking was she eight or something. She threw the book across the room in frustration. Emma was right, she was just a silly little girl. She put out the candles, before going to bed. She couldn't afford to waste time with this. Winter's break would end all too soon, and she would have to go back to that damn place.

She was shaking in abject terror admist complete darkness, desperately trying to shake off her revulsion at the things she felt crawling over her bare feet and the putrid stench assaulting her nose, when it manifested. A warm, gentle light shone on her and the things -bugs, she realized- who had plagued her moved back, clearing a triangular empty space around her. She looked up, to see that which had brought her relief.

"Hey kiddo, what's up? Name's Bill. Bill Cipher. How do you do? Rhetorical questions, by the way." The obnoxious voice belonged to what could only be described as the bastard child of a cyclope and a pyramid, hovering a few yards above her. It, no, he was the source of the light.

"I don't know! Who are you? Where am I?" she said.

When the reply came, his voice was teasing. "You're hurting my feelings. You're the one who called for me, you know."

That's when her hazy mind made the connection. The Eye of Providence. The spirit she had tried to summon over a week ago.

"This is your mind. You fell into it when you fainted."

"Fainted?"

It all rushed back to her with the gentleness of a punch in the guts. The first day of the new semester. Her defiled locker. Sophia pushing her into it. Nobody coming to my help.

"Now, that's not true. I am here after all."

Wait, is he reading my thoughts?

"This is your mind, Taylor. There is little difference between what you think and what you actually say. And to answer your next question, no, I can't help you actually get out of here. I am an entity of dreams, knowledge, and little else." He made a gesture which might have been a shrug if it had been performed by something even remotely humanoid. "Now, don't make that face. I may not be able to get you out, but I can make your stay a bit more pleasant."

She realized a table, two chairs and a tea set had somehow appeared out of nowhere. There were no bug to be seen anywhere anymore either. They had made way to flagrant flowers. The darkness had been completely dissipated by the healthy light of a summer day.

"Please, seat down. Let's chat. I believe we can help each others. We could be friends, the same way your mother and I were friends. You wish to know why Emma turned on you, right? I can tell you! Of course, I'll have to exact a price. If you can even call that a price. You'd benefit as much as me. I merely would like to see you complete Anne Rose's work."

Somehow, Taylor really doubted he was referring to her mother's research on proto-feminist themes in Heian literature.