Northstar Vale my mind, my gun, they comfort me

the pain comes in long bursts before her tiny body can handle it no longer and she is cast in and out of consciousness. but in the bittersweet relief of feeling numb she feels something grip her by the collar; but she swims in darkness and is unable to identify what causes her movement. the loss of her eyes become more confusing to her than shocking, for she cannot recall what had cast her into the sudden darkness. she had closed her eyes, and they had never opened.

witchhazel does not question the turn of events and lingers between life and death with more ease than expected. however, on occasion, she wakes to the feeling of frayed skin scalding across her body and she screams 'till she can no longer; lapsing into her dreams once again. it is a continuous cycle that will last the rest of her life, interrupted only but the affectionate nudges of her saviour. 

witchhazel lies conscious in the snow; unmoving. she does not feel her feet, her legs, or any part of her at all at that moment. she simply lay with no indication she is able to pick herself up. eventually, her bowels begin their daily movement and the snow turns yellow underneath her and she can do nothing to move herself away. she waits until her unknown caretaker will notice her accident, and until then, she falls into slumber once more.

in her dreams, she is whole once more. she is beautiful. she runs, chasing after a woman and three children just like her. she basks in the sunlight, surrounded by a family she will never have and a life she will never receive. she is happy, at that moment in time.