Spellbound

;trauma, mentions of infertility

Your weight relaxed on the wooden floor underneath your feet, subdued breathing exiting your nose and slightly parted lips.

The househeld every damned memory possible-the ones that pricked you constantly and made you into the mold you weren’t cut out to be. The thoughts that made you numb and limp when they crawled in. You despised your reflections; your windows were tinted. This was something you had grown used to.

There was broken furniture you never bothered throwing away. You felt the need to keep it since you felt you were doing yourself a favor doing this.

You walked past, feet gliding effortlessly in an attempt to escape. Thankfully, the next room spared you.

The room was moving day-esque. A few boxes scattered it, some in the middle of the floor or against a wall. The only interesting feature was the fairylike sunlight tearing into the room through curtainless windows, making you wince harshly.

As you prepared to leave, your eyes found themselves focused on a young woman.

Her hair was wild due to teasing, sticking out like a compass. It was almost jet black, grey-ish but dark enough to match her leather jacket, shorts, and uniquely-patterned fishnets.

She just stood there in the doorframe, staring at you with a shy smile on her face. Her eyebrows were scrunched slightly.

You knew the girl. She was your daughter. She was an angel brought down to Earth.

Fertility wasn’t new for you. Carrying a child, let alone getting pregnant was the hardest thing for you. She wasn’t first or last, but that didn’t bother you. All you cared was that she was living and breathing.

You held out your arms to her, hands jerking outward and fingers spread apart. A smile pulled your lips apart, one you only cracked when she was around.

Seeing yours, hers widened.

She walked over and took your embrace, carrying the scent of hairspray and a nameless brand of perfume with her and toward you. You pressed your face into her hair, breathing in her scent.

She was nineteen, but she didn’t have anywhere to go until her career took off. This wasn’t true; there were plenty of options for apartments for cheap. You knew she was only staying for you.

“I love you mom,”

The words scraped her tongue and slid past her lips carefully because she meant it.

She barely inhaled, head tilted as she was looking off into the air. Before you could say anything else.

“I hate seeing you like this. I’m sorry.” Her words were quick this time. She must have felt bad for speaking.

“...”

She had no reason to be sorry. Your problems were yours, not hers. You could only feel guilty because she was saying sorry. You never wanted her to be sorry unless she did something wrong, which she never did.

“S-”

“Promise me when I leave, mom, that you won’t do anything to yourself.”

Her head was craned up at you, staring into your soulless eyes. She looked like she was on the verge of tears.

You felt your eyes widen. You swallowed back the salty taste of the beginning of tears before pulling her head back into you and burying your lips in her hair.

“I promise.”