until i'm ready, let me be
Is it him she thinks evil, or the world? Right now it's hard to distinguish: this newest blow is too much to carry, her already fragile psyche now we'll and truly snapped. Anger rises in her like a ride; she wants to rip the world apart, or maybe just rip out her own throat. It's one thing too many, and she's fucking done.
"Your words, not mine." It's such a petty, childish retort, something a sister might say to her brother- and oh, but that thought shakes something loose in her, leaves her somewhere between laughter and sobs. Is she going crazy? A madness inherited from her dear dead dad?
"Maybe were both bad people." At last Amalia looks away, her eyes turning back to the paper in her lap. "Did you think of that? It kind of makes sense, in a fucked up way- both of us winding up like this. Always trying so damn hard, and always coming up short."
Again the baker glances up, a sharp vulnerability in her eyes as she slices them across Sam's face. "Would your father be proud of me, do you think? Am I what he would want his child to be?"
"Your words, not mine." It's such a petty, childish retort, something a sister might say to her brother- and oh, but that thought shakes something loose in her, leaves her somewhere between laughter and sobs. Is she going crazy? A madness inherited from her dear dead dad?
"Maybe were both bad people." At last Amalia looks away, her eyes turning back to the paper in her lap. "Did you think of that? It kind of makes sense, in a fucked up way- both of us winding up like this. Always trying so damn hard, and always coming up short."
Again the baker glances up, a sharp vulnerability in her eyes as she slices them across Sam's face. "Would your father be proud of me, do you think? Am I what he would want his child to be?"
i have to heal myself
AmaLiA
