Seaside Moors Longs for sun and lays in the dark

Raleska had acted selfishly -- of this, she knew it was true.

In the process, she had hurt Rosalyn. Someone she regarded with more esteem and care than anyone else in the world. In many ways, more than her mother.

Rosalyn didn't need two eyes to communicate the hurt and grief in her wearied stare. Raleska nearly flinched under its intensity, looking away with a heavy sigh.

She looked up, her eyes tracing the clouds as they moved by. Her throat was hot and constricted. Her nose funny. If she looked back at Rosalyn she knew she would surely cry.

"I can't --" Stop, start, stop again. Shaky breaths, tight tone. "I don't want to be like her!" And Raleska was learning every day, she was more and more like her mother than she ever knew. She bit her lower lip, unable to even sum up the fear in her heart. Her head began to shake, first slowly and then with the violent earnest of someone who could not accept their fate: "If I have kids I'll love them like she did and -- I'll turn into her and I can't --" Raleska's voice turned quiet. She had seen how her mother's obsession for her children had in the end killed her. "I don't want that."