Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
────── 〔❦〕──────
CONVERSATION BETWIXT BOND, strong as one amongst mother and daughter, held no choice in falling prey to destruction. Something — proper bond — that'd never been completely there, deteriorated quicker than any forms of development could surface. Latched to fishing line, hooked between option of 'HEALTHY' and 'DYSFUNCTIONAL' there had been extinction in good sense of parental relationship.
Lacking under survival portion, department of improvements could not play fair match. This was done before, as had that — failure, merely unstoppable. Ruins met tattered palms of de Fitzroys, dusted with hinted fallen debris. Even circumstances of death were unable to repair inanimate belonging that had never been theirs to own, in the first place.
Mirrored features plastered on an owl, feathers pat gently with eyes wandering in picking and prying motions. Brief glances at mother felt like reminder to what'd been lost; imaging without intention, varied stories polluted fifteen year old's weakened mind. Comprehending she'd be claimed dumb or irritating for it, refrained any speaking. But detaining themselves from multiplying, bundles of thoughts solely grew.
Cautiously awaiting beginning in conversation, numerous pauses took place in active motions. For odd reasoning, the woman had inability in distinguishing discomfort within atmosphere. A belief that presence in a child's room benefited either side, seeped through sheer blinds.
"Do you enjoy it?" curiosity shone in an inquiry, a keen for answers that were on no account ever received. "Watching your child suffer from your own faults?"
Hinting at torment inflicted on a daughter born within failed marriage, and the mother's side in war — Elara was beyond tiresome. Left on edge for longest time, she never understood reason for all repercussions to pile onto her. Or when she became a tool for everyone's use, performing as makeshift weapon — a girl meant to, at the very end, defeat opposing leads of war.
Fabric slipped between nimble fingers, woman neither surprised at word choice nor pleased. As well deserving harsh commentary was — such fact acknowledged by Lilith de Fitzroy — initial shock was never once removed.
"I know I've made numerous mistakes but I am owing up to them now." Self awareness was late admitted, while a lack of redemption had not pushed forward.
Proper behaviour in or from parents did not total strenuous effort. A head was shaken side to side, with disbelief, "Why did you take so long to do something?"
Responses from Lilith lacked fulfillment; time after time growing duller and bringing forth increases in inquires. "There are proper times to receive answers," was the most common answer — as had just been repeated.
