Silver Creek Beautiful things

Vestiges seemed to haunt her every step, both living and dead. Since her exile, she had begun to hope that every encounter she would greet death once more and allow passage to across the marigold bridge. But she knew this would never come to pass. In the eye of the madre, Mictec had an earthly tether and forever would roam the lands never finding satisfaction and only to ferry others to la tierra muerte. Pity la madre's eyes would scorn her and force her back into the mold. La madre wanted this Mictec would often tell herself since her birth, she was the only one to survive the litter.

So she continued to carry that burden, as she neared the fork in the river which if her abuela had been there would have interpreted as a sign from the gods, a reflection of her split identity. Hunger had begun to claw in her stomach once more, winter had driven prey to hibernate while others were scare in appearance which served no benefit in the hallucinations she had begun to see skirting the fields of her vision. So to see the outline of another, a small, frail frame reminiscent of her abuela, anger flared through a snarl.

"Why must you continue to pester me?"