Tears and Death

She lay there, a lost child weeping in the dark. “Mama,” she called, “Mama,” but her mother would not answer. Her mother is up there, in the light. She will not come for this naughty child. The darkness moves, a sliver of something not human. A voice fills the air. It is old, and the smell of death is overwhelming. The body pulls its hands around the child.

“Do not cry child.” The body soothes. The voice is female, kind and gentle.

“I’m sorry.” The girl whimpers.

“Do not be. It is hardly your fault.” The voice says.

“But it is!” the child cries, “You do not understa-“ but the voice interrupts her, “I understand that your father is a very bad man. I understand that he causes harm to those who are not pure by his standers. I Understand it very well.”

The girl begins to weep again, “Lilian… I wish you were my mother…” She whispers over her sobs.

You can almost hear the smile upon lilian’s lips. “And I wish you were my daughter.”

Together, they cry.