Prologue

I do not own the mentalist, so it would be great if you didn't sue me, thanks!

I can still see her standing there, you know. At the door, you could literally see the wheels turning in her head, deciding wether or not to let me inside, weighing the pros and cons on the tiny little brass scale inside her head that she keeps just for that very purpose. I wish that I could say that she was smiling, but she wasn't. She was crying, there seemed to be worlds and worlds of tears behing those eyes that could never quite decide if they wanted to be blue or green. Those tears were contagious you know, and long after I left I could feel them banging on the gatehouse of the fortress inside my head where I keep the Things I Do Not Want To Think About.

I see her like that sometimes, in the corner of my vision, when I let my guard down just enough to let my very favorite demon out into my thoughts. She'll creep out, and hide behind questions, or piles of memories. And when I least expect it, when I turn around, or open a cupboard, I will see her. She'll be in a group of people, or behind a bookcase, and when I blink, she will be gone. I suppose I could forget her, bury that particular memory in my mind until it all but dissapears. But you see, I do not deserve to forget. This is my fault. And I welcome the punishment. Anything I touch seems to get burned, so it stands to reason that the ashes will haunt me forever.

I'm intending to continue, but please review and let me know what you think, suggestions would be great! J