I lurched away from the swamp's edge and collapsed on all fours, heaving. I'd never seen someone burn alive like that, consumed by their own flames, dead by their own hand. I tried to throw up but I couldn't. There was nothing in my stomach. I was starving. I was hungry, and I was foolish. Why had I come here? Why the fuck did I follow that damn rabbit? My only vessel back to comfort had just gone up in flames. I was trapped and shuddering with fear.

I pulled myself to my knees and rested my back against a large marble pillar facing out onto the swamp. What now? I looked from side to side. I could only see a few steps in either direction. There's nothing here but darkness.

At that moment, I heard the clink of heavy metal moving across the slippery stone floor. I looked up to see a large, silver ring screwed into the pillar I was resting against. A rusted chain with links the size of my hand was attached to the marble slab, snaking along the ground.

I wrapped my fingers tightly around my sword's handle, stood up, and slowly followed the chain along the floor.

It moved and clinked again.

I froze, my sword held up in front of my face like a warrior.

"Who's there?" my voice wavered.

The chain moved again, like a serpent slithering across the desert sand.

"Show yourself!" I yelled. Beads of sweat melted down the side of my forehead. I could feel my hand becoming slippery against my weapon's leather grip.

Everything was silent. Everything was still.

And then I saw it. Two large, glowing irises the size of bowling balls — blue as the raging ocean. I was frozen on the spot, trembling as they came closer, emerging out of the shadows.

I looked up to see a magnificent dragon bearing down upon me. She was ferocious, with gnarly teeth and fierce eyes and expansive wings that spread the width of the cave, scratching at its sides. Her scales were black as coal. A diamond-encrusted metal band was tightly fastened around her long neck. I might have mistaken it for a necklace, but the attached tether betrayed its true utility: it was a slave's collar. Her rusty metal chain violently rattled and banged against the floor as she shook her body from side to side.

My glowing sword trembled in my hands.

She looked into my eyes and roared with the ferocity of angered gods. Her teeth were sharp and vicious, her mouth large enough to swallow me whole.

I was terrified. I hadn't trained for this. I wasn't a knight or a prince or a warrior, mounted on a Friesian horse, coming to rescue a princess or steal a treasure. I didn't know how to slay a dragon. I'd never learned that skill. There was no Youtube video for that. Fuck. Everything was wrong. This was not how my story was supposed to end. After everything I’d been through, I was not supposed to die here in the darkness.

The dragon angrily reared its head. I could see her soft, fleshy, pale throat begin to glow red and orange.

I glanced to the side and dived behind another marble pylon, just as a jet of fire came surging in my direction. I stood flat against the block, eyes shut tight as the fine hairs on my arms singed and shriveled in the heat.

When I opened my eyes a second later, the chamber was lit up. The stone floor was tiled from massive black and white slabs that were smooth as ice. Huge chess pieces — pawns and rooks and bishops — were scattered around the chamber like a surreal Salvador Dali painting. Half of them were carved from wood and burning like Eucalyptus trees in the harsh Australian summer. The other half were carved from cool, black marble — immune to the flames.

I looked up and noticed I was sheltered behind a queen. As I poked my head out from behind my barrier, I saw the dragon's eyes darting around the chamber. She didn't know where I was.

What do I do now? I wondered. I’m going to die here, alone. I'll never get to do everything I wanted to do in this life. I'll never get to say everything I wanted to say, or love everyone I wanted to love, or be everything I wanted to be.

Wisdom whispered in my ear. Your life is not over yet. I've told you before, and I'll tell you again: the privilege of a lifetime is to become who you really are.

And who is that? I cried as a tear trickled down my cheek.

Whoever you want to be. A hero, a warrior, or a scared little girl, hiding from her shadow monsters. It's your story. You're the one writing it. You're the one with the pen in your hand.

I looked down at my glowing sword, then out at the pale, fleshy area of the dragon's throat — the only part of her body that wasn't protected by thick scales. Is that how you slay a dragon? I wondered. Plunge a razor into its neck and watch it bleed out on the ground as the life slowly evaporates from its ocean eyes? It just seemed so cruel — but that's what the storybooks told me to do. I didn't know if I was strong enough to pull this off.

As if sensing my hesitation, Bukowski injected more poetry into my veins.

No one can save you but yourself
And you're worth saving
It's a war not easily won
But if anything is worth winning
then
This is it.

He was right. Heroic men were always slaying dragons, and I had to save myself. I had to be the heroine of my own story. I didn't want to fade away into oblivion with so much left to live for.

I peaked out from behind my barrier once more and plotted my route to the dragon's throat. Her fire could burn me to a crisp if I made one wrong move.

This is it, I thought. Three... two... one...

I bolted from my hiding place and dived behind a marble pawn, just as another jet of flames surged in my direction.

Shit. She'd seen me. She knew where I was.

Without hesitating, I darted from my hiding spot again. As I sprinted past a flaming wooden knight, my sandals gave way, and I fell to the icy ground. My sword slid across the chessboard towards the dragon as she reared her head and roared once more. I scrambled to my feet and dived behind a marble bishop as another jet of flames came hurling in my direction.

As I glanced out from behind my barrier, my stomach sank. My sword was lying there, right near the dragon's belly. The magnificent monster was hovering four feet above the ground, flapping her wings as they scraped against the chamber walls with a piercing screech.

I had to act fast. I surveyed the gameboard — the dragon, the chess pieces, the chain, the tiles. If I ran towards the sword, there was a chance I could retrieve it. But I'd have no marble cover from the flames that would inevitably rain down upon me.

I quickly removed my sandals, so my bare feet had a more grip against the slippery floor. I gathered up my dress in one hand, and then I ran. I ran like I'd never run before.

The dragon was looking in the opposite direction, but she saw me coming out of the corner of her eye. As I approached her body, I ducked down, grabbed my sword by the handle, and pushed my feet to the side. I hit the ground with precision and slid across the chessboard, just as I'd slid across many slippery floors as a fun-loving child. I looked up to see the glowing blade in my hand dragging itself along the armored belly of the monster, sparks flying from the friction of metal grinding against dragon-scale.

I slid clean underneath the beast, emerging on her other side. She swung around in confusion. The heavy chain wrapped itself tightly around her left foreleg, just as I hoped it would.

I dragged my sword under her lashing tail and switched to her other side, just as she swung around again. The chain locked itself around her right hindfoot. The tension in her tether was pulling on her slave's collar. Her movement was restricted. She was vulnerable.

I leaped over her clawed toes. They scratched against the ground like a trapped animal. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins as I bolted towards her chest.

I could see my target with perfect clarity — her soft, white, fleshy throat.

I raised my weapon to strike. As I did, the dragon let out a mighty roar that shook the chamber. Her neck glowed red and orange once more as she spat flames against the stone wall.

Something caught my eye in the firelight. I looked up to see word after word after word — all violently etched into the walls of the chamber.

Failure.

Disappointment.

Fat.

Ugly.

Pathetic.

Stupid.

Worthless.

Weak.

Fucked up.

Freak.

Idiot.

Loser.

Loner.

Selfish.

Arrogant.

Bitch.

Know-It-All.

Imposter.

Defective.

Unwanted.

Not enough.

Oversensitive.

Embarrassing.

Broken.

Woo woo.

Inappropriate.

Fraud.

Grandiose.

Cocky.

Scatterbrained.

Dropkick.

Too much.

Unlovable.

Sick.

Crackpot.

Crazy.

Mad.

That wall confronted me with every horrible thing I'd ever said about myself; every color of my being I'd been taught to hide and mute and suppress.

I glanced up at the monster. She looked different to me — wrapped in chains; hurting; trapped in a tiny, abusive, cage; her eyes darting around in fear. The diamond-encrusted collar was cruelly digging into her neck; her slave's tether taught from the pressure of her tangled foreleg.

A Sufi poet whispered in my ear once more as my blade remained poised to strike. You wander from room to room, hunting for the diamond necklace that is already around your neck.

I gasped in realization. My spare hand clawed at my chest and found what it was looking for: a diamond necklace. All these years I'd been wearing it, but I'd never noticed it in the mirror.

I stared up at the beast, who roared again in agony and protest. I’d been taught to hate her, and hide her, and deny her, and slay her. I'd been taught to kill her like a savage; to thrust my sword into her neck, and triumphantly watch her bleed out on the ground as a symbol of my strength. I'd been taught to overcome her; to triumph over her; to be a hero.

But those stories were written for men, and I was no man. I had to write my own story.

I raised my blade higher in the air, then swung it down with incredible force.

A flash of light blitzed the cave as the sword met its mark. The slave's chain snapped clean in two and fell to the ground with a loud clunk.

I dived to the side as the liberated dragon roared and flapped her wings, charging toward the swamp. She soared up into the air. I didn't realize how high the ceiling was. I could vaguely make out her belly in the soft firelight as she flapped and flamed and celebrated the feeling of life.

And then, a second later, she plunged towards the ground, head-first into the swamp. Her body violently smacked the surface, causing a small tsunami of displaced water to splash onto the chessboard.

A moment later, the dragon broke the swamp's surface again and shot up into the air. She was beautiful — like a phoenix reassembled from her own ashes. Years of pressure had hardened her black coal scales into an armor of diamonds that shone like pure, white sunshine. She was every color of the fucking rainbow.

The dragon landed on the chessboard, right in front of me. Her blue eyes had a new glint to them — they looked hopeful; adventurous; alive again.

I reached out my hand. She affectionately rubbed her cheek against my palm.

Is this what trust feels like? I wondered. This magnificent beast could kill me in a second. Her power simultaneously terrified and exhilarated me.

"Can you help me get out of this dark prison?" I asked as I lightly stroked her face. "I want to go home."

She knelt down on the ground and swayed her neck from side to side. The loose chain attached to her diamond necklace clanked against the stone floor.

I hitched up my filthy dress, gripped Ockham's Razor in one hand, and hoisted myself onto her foreleg. Then I grabbed the chain and pulled myself up onto her shoulders.

I gripped her collar as her wings began to flap. She took off from the chessboard and ascended upwards, upwards, upwards towards the ceiling of the chamber. I could see the cave's roof rapidly approaching up ahead.

She was flying so fast. I was sure she was going to crash, sending me tumbling towards the ground. I tightened my grip around her collar.

My dragon roared, and a surge of flames erupted from her mouth.

Up ahead, the cave's ceiling began to shapeshift. An icy bucket of water hit my shoulder. Another splashed my face and soaked through my dress.

And then it happened: the whole ceiling gave way. It wasn't made of impenetrable stone; it was made of malleable ice. First came the fire, then came the flood.

I held on as an entire ocean rained down upon me. The pressure was insane. She kept charging upwards through the dark water. I held my breath, hoping I wouldn't pass out before we reached the surface.

Her wings flapped like flippers in the liquid.

Up.

Up.

Up.

I could see a bright light at the surface.

Up.

Up.

Up.

We were nearly there.

My breath was running out.

My eyes were stinging from the salt.

I'd been down in the darkness for so long.

The sunshine was getting closer.

Closer.

Closer.

I broke the surface of the ocean.

A bright light shone in my eyes.

I was sitting in my bathtub, shivering. My lungs were heaving, gasping for breath. Cold water danced down the side of my face. The Holographic Universe had dropped out of my limp hand and lay on the floor beside the tub. The book's pages were drenched from the small tsunami of water I'd displaced during my epiphany.