..I had that dream again; where I could swim, where I could fly.. where I wasn’t.. disabled and so reliant on my Mother, on my Brother or Sister. But..? This world wouldn’t ever give me that.. would it? It is as unforgiving to Children as it is their Parents; this world’s teeth dig deep. I turned to be on my side.. but my eyes? They refused to open and see the world. I wanted to sleep forever.. but my Mother wasn’t having it; it was time for my Medicine.. a mahogany, quarter sized pill that tastes how hot tar smells. Time and again she claimed it was to help my condition – and while it would for an hour or two..? I ultimately was forced back to this bed. ❛..Voso.❜ Thoughts were pushed aside as her notoriously coarse voice ordered them to. My facade of sleep was gone at once.. I physically jumped and even sheepishly responded.. I knew not to keep her waiting for an answer; ❛..Yes, Mama..?❜ That didn’t mean I emerged from cover though. That was it’s own story.. it’s own matter of sternness I soon came to regret the moment my protection was yanked and the gelid climate of my Home lashed at sun-neglected skin.

❛..Today is Sunday.. and you know well what happens on Sunday.❜ Alongside it being the day my Dosage of Medicine is tripled..? It is the day I have a session of ‘ training ‘ with my Siblings; Morgana and Bridewell and.. me..? I’m Voso; the youngest out of the three. Morgana is eleven. Bridewell is eight and I am six.. but I am also my Mother’s favorite. The favorite in a Family so large, so renowned as royalty. My Father could never have been so.. decisively cold. But..? It didn’t stop me from loving them as equals. As I drifted from thoughts, again, the Medicine was just below my nose and I was sat upright. I could only focus on that and Mother. ❛..Open.❜ I did such without really realizing it.. and it was swallowed before I could mind it too much. Of that..? I realized how alike to Mother I really am; she and I look exactly the same.. excluding the rogue, sable streaks in her otherwise knee-length alabaster mane. Our horns grow the same way; from the lower jaw on up before stopping and jutting outward to obstruct the fronts of ears; Keratin the color of burnt asphalt.

..Even our eyes? One in the same; light lavender.. but? I have a little problem, the thing this Medicine couldn’t fix. My pupils did not exist – a year ago they shrank and shrank until the whole of either eye was sclera behind oases of lavender. But..? I can still see – better in the dark than light.. sight is still sight all the same.. and for the third time this morning? I had zoned out.. and now I was being helped out of bed. By the time I was on my feet..? Mother was already thumbing through my Closet for something other than a shirt three times too large. After a moment she was out; her tail snatching me closer so she could pull one shirt off and replace it with one, of parallel, inky color.. but this time? My size and festooned with Infernal Hierarchy Markings.. and now the shorts I wore under it were visible, too, giving way for bony little legs and small feet. Her tail slackened but her arms swooped in and scooped me up; whisking me to the washroom where I was sat atop the broad sink so she could busily tame my unkempt hair while I fetched my toothbrush.

❛..Am I going to get better, Mama..? I know you say I will.. but.. I keep having seizures.. I get skinnier every day.. I just want to go outside more, like Bridewell and Morgana.❜ Until now? I don’t think I ‘ got ‘ the severity of my life until I heard myself speak it and not think it. I was young, a slow learner.. but I was never stupid. I resorted to my usual, quiet ways after that – absently rolling bristle to tooth and staring at emaciated fingers.. but? I bit down on the plastic, through it, rather, once Mother yanked my hair, at once, into an appreciably sized ponytail. After that..? I’d expected something said in turn, some reassurance, something to.. relieve me of my mind.. but the only thing I got was her reflection in the mirror; a face that seemed to be fighting.. tears, fighting emotion, fighting the reality that her Son is dying. It was the first time I had ever seen a chip in her composure, the first I had ever seen her so.. vulnerable in my short life.. and these emotions? Intensified, by the moment, once arms held me.. once the weight of her chin settled atop my head.. and through that? I knew.. and she knew; ❛..I’ll be strong for you, Mama.. you and Papa..❜