@Castel though anyone can join if they wish but please keep replies short. I haven't posted in awhile and I would like a gentle casual return to writing.
Every day she told herself she was going to try. The sun would rise and fall and she wouldn't move much. Laurel didn't need her to be in this den anymore but the loose roots held her down. Some days she got as far as the outside, and she blinked at the sun. Afraid. Confused. She loved the little boy so much, loved them all so much but somehow that didn't make a difference.
It was the milk.
When it let down, however that worked, some switch went off in her brain and it felt like she couldn't breathe anymore. Her breathing quickened and she just wanted to scream, for it to be over. The young half-mother tried to tell herself it was all in her head. Nothing was wrong with her, after weeks and weeks of feeling like the walls were going to cave in or her body would fail her the thin milk still came and no one died and eventually they all stopped bothering her. That was what she needed.
Even after he stopped nursing, somehow it was all different. Her breath was short and noises outside of the den would give her heart a stutter.
But today she told herself she would take five steps outside.
And she did.
(This post was last modified: Sep 12, 2017, 12:43 AM by Sahalie.)