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I don't know why I left, or where I think I'm going. All I know is that I want to get away, away from the mists and the people that stare at me, at my limping gait and silent lips. Weird, they whisper, that they look so different. I know I don't look like you Momma. I know Fae doesn't either. And I know the people talk, in hushed tones, like I can't hear. But I hear, Momma. I hear and I bow my head and limp away and the pain is no longer so tangible, because it hurts in my chest, and I don't have enough words to define what I'm feeling. I don't tell you Momma. Because I can see the panic in your eyes, the question of what am I going to do with them? And I know deep inside that goodbye is coming soon. That you don't intend to keep me, that Fae is leaving, that I might be too.
So I leave instead.
I don't know the land outside the Edge. And it hurts to walk. But I do it anyways, I keep moving, even as fire eats up my legs and the land is blurry with the tears that swell in my eyes. It's hours and hours of nothing but walking and hurting and wondering why God why don't I stop? But there is something solid and old inside of me and it tells me that stopping is not an option, because I can only move forward. That I cannot give up. That failure is not allowed. And all I can do is obey, obey, obey. I am a creature made for servitude, for meekness, and so I listen to this voice that will in time make me strong. Following it, I will be lifted from my meekness, and yet I am weak all the while for obeying helplessly all the same.
I lift my eyes and I stare. Everything is blue. Everything is sparkling and moving and beautiful. But when I try to reach it, Momma, I can't. My legs crumble and I fall. Even still I struggle, I crawl. I promised you Momma. I promised I would be beautiful for you. So why do I fail now, when I'm so close? My knees hurt as I scrape them on this pale substance which folds and eases out beneath me, making it harder and harder for me to crawl along. I just want to be beautiful, Momma. So why am I cursed to never make it?
My tears fall. I'm sobbing so hard I can hardly breathe, but it's so unfair! And before I can realize it, I'm screaming, my throat raw and aching and I'm thrashing about in the sand. Why? Why? Why? And then my screams start turning into that one word, over and over again, until it breaks and I cry and cry and cry. An ugly, broken, gangly body. A black stain on a sea of the palest creams. Vulnerable.
I just wanted to be beautiful for you Momma. I'm sorry I failed you.
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[P] i remember saying prayers for someone kind
