Within those dark times, I would often find myself confronted by frightful and fevered visions. No matter my shouting, the befuddled nurses who attended me always failed to perceive these visions. The visions varied often, and all so real I aver I could have reached out my hand to touch them, but the vision which most impressed upon me the reality of its presence, is also the one which most often recurred. I came to know this vision most, and feared its reappearance, however inevitable. It was, as far as my pain-anguished eyes let me see, a small imp, its skin a blotted red and brown, with eyes that held the very chaos of Hell inside. It would dance through my bedchamber and with horrid claws shred my books, humming all the while. The tune was unfamiliar, and yet a constant, and over the years I learnt it well.