We're just two lost souls Swimming in a fish bowl, Year after year, Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here.

There's one scene I remember stupid vividly where someone goes to the bathroom and the monster starts water bubbling up the floor drain.

My midwife checked her O2 levels for me before she even left. She knew how important it was to me.

When she reached 100%, I just cried.

Our sweet girl is healthy and beautiful and here. Her birth was amazing and empowering and beautiful and fucking badass.

And I want to watch her and hold her. I am convinced if I don’t, if I blink,’I’ll miss something.

I am requiring the paths in my brain that say she isn’t safe, that’s she’s sick, that each noise means distress. Because it doesn’t.

Lilliana is not Dean. She does not have HLHS. She is home and has nurses and pooped the gross Mac poop (and I got to change her!!!!). My sweet girl is here and safe.

She is mine. Ours. Healthy.

I didn’t expect those old fears to creep back in, but they have. And I slamming the door in their face, now. I refuse to let fear ruin this baby moon.

She is here

She is safe

She is ours

The thought of something else

Being there

With me

It was terrifying

But now

It’s comforting

Because maybe

Just maybe

I’m not so alone

I copied Kirby as Scott Sackett and I talked on this stream. The bottom sketch is a doodle from the day before. You can see the Kirby influence.

The clownette hummed and walked over to her tent to get some rest. She had spent a good portion of time at her labyrinth working and creating new things. So far, there hadn’t anything that she quite liked enough to keep; which in her opinion was a little odd. She always made things she loved and it's how her labyrinth was so full.Yet for the last few days nothing seemed to be quite just right.

A soft sigh left her mouth as she reached her small home inside the carnival, her hands going up to let her hair out of the messy pony tail she had tied it in. Pausing by her mirror, the ginger hummed and ran her fingers along the strands. Maybe she should cut it? It was extremely long...But at the same time she loved it look. Standing there debating it for a moment she offered a small shrug. She'd ask Eclipse his opinion later.

Walking over to her bed the young woman laid down, nuzzling into the bed and closing her eyes. While she didn't need to sleep; Sweetie enjoyed it. It helped give her ideas of what to make or showed her fantastical scenes of what to do. Relaxing and starting the doze off she would have never suspected what she dream of.

When her eyes opened once more she stood in an empty and endless room. Confused she picked a direction and started to walk in it, looking for a sign of anything. Sweet-Tart continued to walk and look and wander for about half an hour without sign of anything or anyone. Her stride gradually came to a stop as she started to panic. This was like when she first entered her box. She had to imagine the interior of it before anything became real, at least to her.

Closing her eyes and dropping down in a squat the magical entity took a deep breath to try and calm down. Maybe now would be a good idea to wake up? Opening her eyes again Sweetie noticed the mirror below her feet. Blinking a little she reached out to touch it, surprised by the warmth that it gave off. However, it brought buried feelings to the surface cause the clownett’s heart to race.

All the hate she held for her colors started to resurface, her fears of losing them and therefor losing anyone she loved. How she hated that she didn't entirely understand peoples feelings. The fact her hobbies and interests were so odd for someone of a rainbow clown. Every doubt, every fear, everything and anything she had buried in the back of her mind in hopes she would never have to think about them again.

As her fear and panic set in she knelt down more fully on the mirror placing a hand over her face as tears had started to roll down her eyes. Her breaths left her mouth in strangled gasps as if she was having a hard time breathing. Her body shook and trembled and convulsed.

Bit by bit however she noticed how the warmth of the mirror was fading and a cold sensation was spreading up her arm to her shoulders and her cheeks. Uncovering her face, Sweetie was horrified to see her hand turning to Monochrome. More panic set in and her transformation started to speed up.

She scratched at the mirror repeatedly with tears actively flowing down her cheeks. "No..No! Let me keep them. I need them! I-If..no..no..Wh-When Papa comes back he'll be upset if I'm Monochrome...J-Jack will be heart broken too." Her voice was shaky horse and sounded like it hadn't been used in a while. But despite all her pleading with her reflection her changes didn't stop. Her hair started to turn into the silver shade it was whenever she slipped into a Monochrome state.

But despite the fear she had of looking Monochrome, she couldn't help but to appreciate how she looked. Being Monochrome meant freedom for her to enjoy whatever she wanted. As she admitted this the transformation slowly stopped and started to reverse, causing a pitiful, heart broken laugh to leave the girls mouth before covering her face once more with her hand.