POISON. [VA]

[Rose]

“... you did this to me...”

black blood bubbled from his mouth as he choked on it, glazing eyes staring at her with anger. hatred. disappointment.

“... if you were there for us... this wouldn't have happened...”

the form lurches, heaving up dark fluids. remnants of a purple plant glowed vibrantly in the shadows, the culprit illuminated. her failure on display.

“... we trusted you, mama.. why would you do this to us...”

Darkness coated her vision. Tantalizing. Whispers pierced the night, followed by mocking giggles. Snickers. She could not escape the judgement, the constant pressure. The hurt. The expectations. Turn and turn and turn again, no escape in sight.

“...say, did she...”

“did you hear...”

“...so lost.”

“disappointment.”

She hated it. Hated floating in this darkness, unable to wrench herself out of this endless wormhole.

“... we trusted you, mama...”

The whisper was faint, barely-there, and yet... we trusted you, trusted you... as if.. as if she no longer retained that trust. But did she? That was the question - and she... no, she did not. They did not trust her. Not anymore. She did not deserve their faith.

Did not deserve...

“why would you do this to us...”

Why had she done this? No, wait... what had she done? Why... what..? WHEN. WHY, WHY, WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO US...? Why had she done it? What had she done? Nothing made sense. Everything made sense. Who was she? Why was she?

“guilty to the bone.”

“...heart as blind as...”

“brought this on herself...”

“..made a mess...”

“...beware

... a fool of you.”

She was a fool. A disappointment. Shadows whirled around her. She belonged to the shadows. Wisps. Plumes of smoke morphed before her. Familiar amber eyes gleamed back at her, narrowed with derision. The amber of her father. The amber of her adoptive mother. The amber of her son.

then he began to melt, body morphing into a familiar scene. limp on the ground, a chunk of flesh gone.

in its place lay a cluster of black berries, the significance unknown.

Black nightshade.

Nightshade. A poison. A curse.

Please... she just wants to be let go. Wants to let go. This repeating nightmare. The echoes of her darkest memories. Her mind. It is no longer safe. Infiltrated night by night by nightmares, day by day by daymares. She was being taunted, both awake and not. Would it ever go away? Would she ever heal? So many herbs, so many healing tactics. So many visions, so many whispers, so many secrets. Photographic memories.

She wants to be saved.

“She is doomed.”

She wants peace.

“She will never have peace.”

She wants to be found.

“She is lost.”

She wants to be free.

“...there is a price to her ambition.

cursed for eternity...”

The whispers do not stop.

Day and night,
the cycle continues.

An endless loop,
destiny awaits.

Their graves call out to you,
day and smoke.
two wrongs, no rights.

There is no end,
no relief.
Regrets are all she knows,
all she will know.

REMORSE. REGRET. Know what you have done. Know what you have wrought. And suffer for it, dearest. Your Dreamwalking will not save you now. A prisoner in your own mind. BEWARE. Take care what you wish for, my love.

There is always a price to pay,
and it is never an easy one.

Beware the poison,
beware the Nightshade.

Death does not pause for the frail,
weak-minded, broken-hearted. Fate does not stop in its tracks to wait for anyone, or anything.

Not even for you.

A phoenix can only rise from the ashes after it has fully withered away.