Beaurk

The cotton fabric was thick enough to cover what she needed it to cover. It’s not like she wanted to do it. No, she had to do it. And that was just something they didn’t understand. They thought she was troubled; maybe. They thought she wanted to die; possibly. They begged her to stop; it wasn’t that easy. This was the only connection she had left. This was her form of a morbid séance. In these moments when she took the blade and pressed it to her skin, she felt the presence she craved for the most; she felt the approval she craved for the most. In these moments it was like her mother had never left her.