Blackfeather Woods Sleep is a little Death.

I hate you. The statement, which in any other circumstance would have torn a child in two, fell like a stone into a pond: a small, almost silent impact, rippling out in circles. . .only to fall to the bottom and be forgotten, forever.

She had known for a long time Potema hated her; from the moment she had began to think, to understand. These words were not a shock, not a surprise. Maegi had only comprehended half of what Potema had just said--and she bristled as her mother insulted her siblings--but fell eerily still as her mother dropped the last attack. . .or what would have been an attack, had she not known already.

How could she not know? From the days of scrabbling around on the whelping den floor, seeking blindly for sustenance where there was none, Potema had been absent. Gone. Her mind destroyed by drugs, her heart filled with hate. It was so understood by the girl that her mother despised her that she had never even sought her out, looking for love. She knew there was none to find.

And for a long time, she had felt few things in return. Bewilderment, at first, but that eventually morphed into a kind of cool acceptance, void of emotion. But not anymore. Now, as she stood, looking into her mother's manic gaze, she felt disgust. Not for herself, but for the monster that had borne her. Anger, too, for the hatred Potema felt toward her beloved brothers. And, yes, she supposed. . .

"I know," she responded finally, her voice a few degrees colder than ice. "I hate you, too." Without a single word further, Maegi picked up her mouse, turned, and walked back into the Mire, keeping an ear out for movement behind her. She would not let herself break down for many, many paces more.

lmao i had to take xanax for this thread