For days he stirred his dark concoction. The smell singed my nose; the images stung my eyes. Those days turned into years. Each ingredient added was steeped in secrecy and enhanced the power of his brew.

Then the key ingredient—one that would bind it all together. He whisked in one last dash of fear and a final pinch of hate. Then he grabbed my heart and squeezed; extracting every last drop of delicacy.

I slowly melted into his pot. He stirred violently, intending to reduce me to nothing. With the heat of his anger and the scalding of his words, he sought to burn away every trace of courage and every ounce of strength.

He reduced me to a simmer and walked away, unaware that my essence was marinating in the elements of my own determination. Unknowingly, he was preparing an entire spread that was doubling my resolve and thickening my purpose.

He set his table; each piece placed with careful precision, polished with rich anticipation. And when he finally sat down to finish me off, he found himself feasting on a meal of his own heart.