Chapter Text
The night breeze was cool as it drifted beneath the dim light of a waning crescent moon. A faint chorus of crickets and cicadas sang in rhythm forming a lullaby soft enough to carry one to sleep. But peace is fragile; it can even be disturbed by the agony of a teenage girl.
Like a curse that refuses to lift, the dream haunts her—not often enough to be of note, yet still too frequent to not unsettle her. It lingers, in some part of her almost like a bug had made home beneath her skin, scratching to be let out.
The same woman appears each time, looking down at her as if she was a disease. The grown woman’s face is hidden beneath a curtain of her disheveled hair, her makeup is flaking off and the rouge on her lips smeared. The same filthy hands raise the blade which shines as the light from the sun hits it. Her heart beats so fast, it almost drowns out the sound of the crying baby.
She is prey—helpless, frozen beneath hands that were once gentle and soft. Even the woman’s nails feel sharp enough to tear her open. She's relived this too many times to feel this powerless, she knows the end yet she can’t run from it.
Surprisingly, there is no scream. No cries. No curses. Only the woman's eyes, wild with disgust and madness as she brings the knife down with full force.
When she finally breaks free from the nightmare, there is a hand on her back, drawing quiet circles. Another offers her water. Her lips are quivering, eyes swollen but tears continue to spill out while she holds onto the warm hands. They can’t hurt her now, she’s safe.
But her finger is still crooked.
And that woman is still her mother.