* ( blow ; ! ⁽ᵃᵘᵗᵒᵖᶫᵃʸ⁾

             ❝ He bit you? ❞ 

                                           A deep breath, a steadying breath.                                           Allison was her daughter, and she                                             supposed to protect her. The code                                             was something she used to protect                                             her, and it was useless if Allison                                             wasn’t able to be protected by it.

             ❝ We’ll figure it out. We’ll move again, maybe. ❞ 

             ❝ —no, mom... we don't have to move... ❞ 

                                           she took a deep shaky breath                                            in as she looked up at her mom.

                                           Allison looks through her window and                                             Victoria takes an instinctive step back.                                           ❝Stupid.❞ Whispered to herself, dire                                            -cted at herself. Allison is out of sight                                             and she should leave, she should run,                                             but something holds her in place. She                                             hears the door open, hears her daughter’s                                             quiet steps across the ground. The hearing                                             was an advantage and a disadvantage;                                             she was loath to consider her forced                                             monster-hood to be positive at all.

                                           A breath to steady herself, flattening                                             her back more against the tree. Her                                             shoulders sag when Allison voice                                             calls out. She could leave right now                                             and Allison would never suspect                                             anything. Maybe she would chalk                                             up whatever she saw as a trick of                                             the light. A breeze through the tree                                             manipulated the shadows and the                                           light, and she could move on.                                            Any grief she’d be dealing with                                             would be undisturbed. Victoria                                             is teetering on an edge of reason,                                             then one step to the side—-

              ❝Allison. ❞ 

                                           her breath was knocked                                            from her body when she                                            heard the familiar voice,                                            she felt like she was about                                            to throw up. it couldn't be,                                            it couldn't be... she saw her                                            mothers dead body - she                                            went to her funeral, how?                                            her lower lip was shaking                                            out of nerves as she took                                            a deep breath in, struggling                                            to find the words.

"Allison, it’s not your fault. And  it’s not the end of the world.”

                           ❝ —How did this happen? ❞

                                           she wanted to feel powerful,                                            not weak, that was the real                                            reason, but there was no way                                            she was ever going to tell her                                            mom that - she'd be dead for                                            sure.

"You don’t have anything to be sorry for, baby girl.”