Hushed Willows you're my heaven, you're my hell

there was nothing she could ever do to reach out to the child when her efforts went un-cared for. shrinking back only to observe the child from inside the depths of the den, she could not break away her eyes from the hateful boy; a mere image of the hate she had harbored all along the pregnancy. yet, she did not feel anything but the sinking feeling of her own sins, the revelation that it was by her own hand that she had caused such ill will. the boy's signals did not go un-noticed to her, however, she found the tiniest bit of solitude that he did not have the vocabulary to create the three words she knew she would ear in the coming weeks in display of his resentment of her. the woman but whispered a hushed apology, excusing her actions to bother the child as she simply waited for further indication he would either get up and leave or sleep. their situation was one big loss, something that could have been so strong but by actions she could never take back, was not. she remained silent.