I am crushed under the anxiety, the pressure, the fear. I felt a knot well in my throat as I wandered, wings strapped uselessly to my sides and eyes sunken in, "you look worse than before, eat more." The idea of eating sounds inappropriate, absurd to my irrational mind, I don't deserve it. Murderers don't deserve lives, to live and laugh and be happy, and I am no exception. I've felt worse and worse, ever since I started blacking out more, started feeling less and less apart of anything. I could taste the iron of blood, the bitterness of (flesh, flesh flesh), an unsettling burning in my gut as my body works against whatever I've consumed. I feel queasy, restless and pained with each step as Sameira trudges beside me, her silence uncomfortable but presence reassuring as my lids lay half closed. 

I kept Sia on my mind, my concern for her well being taking root as soon as I saw her up on the cliff, staring death in the face with some sort of need, as if looking for a justifiable reason to push herself ever closer. I remember looking at her like she was the only thing that ever mattered, remembered feeling warm and happy because she was just looking at me, acknowledging my presence. I needed that validation, the vindication of my exist on this earth, that I wasn't just an ethereal spirit, alone and drifting through the world without a sense of purpose (not like I don't have one now either). She had been cold and it had hurt, it had hurt so much to hear her voice sound so callous, so cruel (Mama I'm so sorry, mama please forgive me). I can't remember anything after that, after a quickened heart rate and sinking stomach, my memory hazy, I could only remember muffled words, voices like mine (Brother, it hurts) but drastically different, I woke up crying and alone, my infection burning vigorously, recently reopened by my own hand (Stop it, I don't want it— I'm sorry I'm sorry!).  

I unknowingly began scratching at my shoulders, aggressively scraping my teeth against the ragged skin with the whites of my eyes peeking out, panting while I stare in the distance. She's dying, watch her there, look into her eyes and tell her. Tell her she's dying, tell her how you feel. I bite into my shoulder, gasping as It waltzes closer, haunting voice a venomous whisper, despite their distance I could feel their breath on my neck. It rolls down, caressing my sweaty tresses and smoothing out over my flecked hide. It dances in similar spots, dark legs taking It closer to me, a wicked grin sprawled across the familiar face, my mother mocking me with a toxic sing song voice. Behind It I see Sia, hounds on her heels with fear swallowing her champagne face, her inevitable doom coming as soon as our eyes collided. The predators took her down, their strength and numbers too much for Sia to handle and she collapses, claws and teeth descending upon her. For every scream that tears from her throat, I bite deeper and deeper until there's blood and spit and tears colliding on my body ("Amara— please"). This seems like  a hellish nightmare, because I cannot convince myself it isn't real, even though I know it's okay, that this isn't Sia. I swallow my blood, warm and metallic and scarily comforting as it washes down my throat. 

I'm rushing before I even have time to register my movement, my shock and the twisted fear that takes residency in my gut. Sameira is in pursuit, her tongue lolled out as she chases me down with concern for my well being. "Being irrational, she is fine. We can visit soon, but you are not in good health." You don't understand, not seeing Sia made me sick, to think that she could really be dead and that my feelings for her could never be whispered between us, that I could never share with her how deep my love goes. Something ticks, a teasing tick tock, tick tock (what if she doesn't love me? Please love me, love me lOVE ME L O V E  M E). I feel the ticking continue, my mood flaring with a foreign passion, my legs thundering against the earth as I open my wings, steady, hesitantly. "Mara, please! Do not pursue, lying skin stealer!" You wouldn't understand the way I feel, perhaps on a minute scale, but I need to do this, I can't live peacefully if I don't. I have to see her. 

My fly to the Throat is tragic to witness, the brittle air taking me through the clouds, numbing my body as the signs of an upcoming Frostfall become present. "Come back, turn around! We check on her another day, it is too cold for flight now! Late late! Mara it is dark, you will be lost." I'll be okay, perhaps getting lost will be the best for me, maybe then I can accept death easier, without remorse for abruptly losing myself and my belief in the world. I am but a burden to the earth, another being to take and take and take and never give, I take lives, waste lives, precious ones that could have flourished to be something beautiful (Mother, look what I've made! I thought the face was the prettiest, so it's the centerpiece! Don't you love it?) I bring myself beneath the cover of clouds, ignoring Sameira's frantic pleading for me to turn around and come back to her, to land and return to her side. I know you mean well, but I cannot return to you, not when I'm so invested in seeing Sia, not when I've so willingly gotten myself trapped in my anxieties. 

I see her, my searching eyes pinpointing the familiar amber champagne with a reluctant smile drawing across my lips, tears of joy welling in my eyes as I circle once, twice, getting closer before I take notice of her position, spilled against the ground. She's at such a secluded place, maybe she was sleeping? But the sight of reddened sand, barely hidden beneath her ebony tail. Oh god oh god oh god ohgodohgoditwasrightshe— I'm always right. Look at her, what a tragic thing, you've only just made it. 

The landing is frantic, the impatience of my mind becoming a danger as I crash into the sands with a great solid hit, joints screaming with the pressure of my landing, gasping for air as I surge forward. I'm tripping over myself, eyes brimming with tears and I take no time in getting to Sia, choking and tasting blood (I know what you've done, I know where you've been. Disgusting, do you hear me? DISGUSTING). A new layer of blood patches my skin, my flight having reopened the only just clotted wound, the burning none of my concern as I tremble, horrified of what lays before me. 

She didn't, she didn't. 

Nonononono this is wrong, this is wrong. Oh oh, what have we here? My eyes follow my dam's figure, watching her teeter over the midnight babe upon the ground, fresh and wet and— hers. I'm panicking in so many ways, overwhelmed by so many thoughts and feelings (make it stop, please it hurts make it stop!) There was blood staining the earth, the aftermath of the birth I had missed, and I felt my stomach plummet because she was at risk. Whether it be her body or me that betrays her first, only time will tell. 

The idea of her death was devastating, savagely bringing ruin to my emotions. She didn't, nono she couldn't. My attachment to her becomes present, my childish greed apparent at the thought of someone else touching her, of her body being touched and explored by someone who I was not, by a foul disease that took the form of an egotistical dick-wielder. I choke back my tears, trying not to show the hurt even though I knew it was a futile attempt. I can only hold my tongue for a minute, biting it as I try to compose myself enough to talk, but my emotions have taken flight and I'm becoming a mess (Mommy can't see me be sad, she'll be angry, mad mad. I don't want to hurt again, be happy for mommy). 

I cough as soon as my mouth opens, blood pooling with my spit as I stare down at Sia. I don't know how to feel, angry, sad, disappointed, jealous, disgusted, should I simply cry? I don't know what to do with myself, feeling my mind slipping out like a teen avoiding responsibilities, through the window and into the night. "Y-you—" Is all I can manage, tearing at my lip until more blood pooled, chewing aggressively as an attempt not to overreact, I had to stay calm, calm. There was a baby, I couldn't yell (Look at this thing! This is no child of mine, you lying bitch! You let someone else have you, and I bet you liked it. How sick, how putrid of a mongrel like you!) I'm angry, I'm mad, I am furious. Had she never considered my gross attachment to her to be more than just some close friendship? Had she never caught my lovesick gaze?

How how how, why why why. 

Someone had touched her, had felt her and taken her beneath them. She had let them plant the seed, they had committed a shameful act and I bet she liked it. I start grinding my teeth together, breathing laboured as I stare down at the baby and then at Sia with absolute raw disgust and fear. What was I supposed to do? What do you say to someone you love, to someone you've broken yourself over and over for, who has had a kid that isn't yours, what do you say? How do I voice my feelings without it all blowing up in my fucking face?

Isn't it unfair? Look at her, she gets to be happy with her baby, he gets to have a mom. She gets to live and raise her child, but look at me Amara. I refuse to turn my head, stuttering gasps escaping my lips as It gets closer and closer, stepping over the black youth that has settled against the ground. I make eye contact with burning amber eyes, hurt and emotional— this is the most emotion I've ever seen in It's eyes. Look at ME, don't you see me? Don't you know how sad it is, that you never had a mother, that you never will. I had Seele, Seele had taken me in, she had treated me like her child, raised me. She wasn't the most attendant foster dam, but she had done the job, and I cannot thank her enough. She sacrificed herself to protect me, to keep me and that stallion alive. You're destined to be alone. Sikeax will find someone else, she already has. She's moved on, your delusional fantasies about being happy with her are false, she will never love you. Not now, not ever. Please. I want It to stop. I can't bear It anymore, I failed I know, but I don't want to admit my pain, I don't want to admit that It's won. 

This pain, this feeling of having my chest torn open (isn't it already?), of my heart being scooped up within clawed hands and crushed between calloused fingers, my blood staining everything (no, it's alright. I- it's okay, I can just wait. It doesn't hurt, I promise dear.) The overpowering need to scream tears at my throat, to scream and wail and throw a tantrum because life isn't fair and I will never be a relevant piece of Sikeax's life. "H- how could you? How could you do this to me, what did I do to fucking deserve this?" My voice is unsteady, my lips quivering as my tears come faster now, my breathing uneven and panicked as I look down at Sia, half tempted to turn and flee, but also begging for an answer. It was too late to leave now, I'd dug myself a fucking grave and jammed one foot straight into it (I'll make you pay for this, I'll make you wish that man had never touched you, that you'd never given birth to such a disgusting thing), I was furious and my body obviously twitched and trembled, my gasping was aggressive and loud, and my fury was not to be quiet. I would be loud, I was furious and hurt, I was going to scream and shout and be as mad as I wanted to be, as envious and uncaring of Sia's feelings as I wanted.