sweet tea. -tkam

loss.

-3rd pov-

TW: ABUSE, lOSS, PTSD, TRAUMA, MENTAL ISSUE, SICKNESS

 
She had never got the chance to start her life, yet, it was already failed. She didn't feel like herself, though, she had never known herself to be anything more than broken.
Just as she was in that very moment. She missed herself, the daisy mae she had never known. many would say its impossible to miss things you never had, but she knew all too well the truth of that matter.
Loss is a harrowing feeling, but, like all things, live goes on even with it. You love something dearly before it's abruptly taken from you, but as you recover, you find yourself left with it's beautiful memories.
"herself" wasn't so much a tangible thing to lose as it was a concept, however, she had another example to compare to.

~flashback, winter, 1914 (aged:5)~

"Momma?"

The ailing woman turned her head, turning her sunken eyes upon the small child beside her bed. A smile on the womans face said she was sorry, but the child couldnt understand.
The womans face was tremendously pale, her complexion only colored by the deep red tinge around her mouth, left behind by her blood. The sickly woman looked deep into the rich blue eyes of her child as she lifted a cool hand to her cheek.
Holding the childs small face in her bony hand, the woman searched for the right words. Her long, brittle, and yellowed finger nails grazed the childs soft skin as she rubbed her thumb across the childs face.

"Momma...? Are you getting better?"

The womans face dropped a bit, her eyes seemed to sigh with her.

"Better...? Well, I wont be sick anymore very soon."

The child nodded in her mothers hand.

The woman coughed violently, her frail body heaving and aching as she did. Bright red blood made a stark contrast to her gray skin as it crept from her mouth.

"Why are you bleeding momma?" she child reached to touch her mothers mouth, but her mother swiftly caught her small hand

"I...well, I cant quite tell you, dear, but, theres no need to worry."

The child crawled up in the bed, and her mother began to feeblely protest against this, but the insistent child still snuggled against the woman.
She laid her small head on the womans chest, listening to her strangled and raspy breathing. The familiar heartbeat of the woman comforted the child, and the woman, knowing her fate, hadn't the will nor the heart to push the little girl away.
The woman placed a thin arm around the warm body of the child, lovingly embracing her daughter.

"Oh, daisy mae...honey I...I'm going to look forward to the day I see you again." the woman sighed, resting her head back on her pillow.

"Where are you goin' momma?" daisy questioned, looking up at her mother, lily mae.

Lily swallowed, holding back her tears before looking down into daisy's eyes.

"Heaven." she whispered

It was becoming more of a struggle to talk each second for lily, and she knew she only had moments left in her time.
She pulled her child closer to her chest, her frail hands shaking.

"Can I go with you?" the girl asked innocently.

"Not yet daisy, but someday, hopeful some day far in the future." lily rubbed her daughters back.

"But...what if I miss you?"

Lily smiled weakly as she looked at her daughter, her beautiful child.

"Don't miss me darling, I'll still be here, just, in your mind."

"But I want you hear in real life" daisy began to cling to her mother

"I know...I know..."

"But..."
"It's not the lords plan, my dear. The good lord doesn't want me to be sick anymore."

Daisy nuzzled her head further against her loving mothers cold chest

"I love you daisy mae..." her mother said, her weak voice barely audible.

"I love you too momma" daisy whispered.

Lily took daisies small hand into hers and held it as she relaxed into the bed. There soon came a time when the chest daisy laid her head on didnt rise again, and the steady beating of her heart didnt soothe.
A time when her mothers hand no longer lovingly stroked her hair, or rubbed her back. A moment where her mothers hand stopped holding hers. Daisy sat up beside her mother, and shook her lightly.

"Momma...?"

~end of flashback~

Daisy had no good memory of who her mother was, but she remembered how deeply she loved her. Though she couldnt recall what it was that made her feel such a sense of love for her mother, it was a love that never weakened.
Something about the vague memories of her mother sparked deep adoration in daisy, but the only real memory she could say she had was the night her mother died.
It was more the feeling she remembered, but the hazy image was still somehow formed in her mind. Her mother had been a good one to her. Lily mae, daisy's mother, had fallen ill with tuberculosis, or, consumption when daisy was two. She suffered it for months, but to no avail.
It was the winter before daisy turned four when she finally passed on, holding her daughter in her arms in the moments she did. Daisy brought her knees against her chest tightly as the memories of her mother slipped into the deep of her mind once again.

She felt like a husk of who she could be, who she never was. She had, in a way, accepted her fate. She almost wished she wasnt so young, she had so much life left to live, and that only made it worse.
To be taunted with the opportunities of her youth whilst trapped indoors. She too, was beyond ready to go to heaven.