Ashes on your pale skin ~ Chris Motionless

Chapter 3:

The beautiful rose that had been handed to her from her fathers hands digs into her hand, and she doesn't even move away, letting it cut away into her skin as she tries her best to stop her eyes from filling with tears.

It's well and truly over, and she doubts she'll ever see her dad again.

She doesn't even make an attempt to move once she feels the weight and pressure of the crowd behind her alleviate, one hand still loosely planted onto the barricade, and the other clutching onto the rose.

Everything feels like a blur, and she doesn't know how to feel or how to process what's gone on.

-

As much as she had no feeling towards her spawn, she knows that she still has to carry on with the plan she'd set out to complete.

Her daughter, as much as she's tried so desperately hard to love her, it has never happened, and she doesn't think it ever will.

Her whole life she told herself she'd give any child she had the best life possible, after she'd been let down and mistreated her whole childhood; carted around like a spare part from family to family.

Instead she'd continued the loop of generational trauma, and she hates it.

From the second that ash was born she'd felt nothing for her, and she'd tried so hard, going to classes, therapy, and reading hundreds of self help books; and yet nothing worked.

Post natal depression had gripped her, and she'd had no one to help her with her Ash.

It had just been her, struggling with her own mental health, with a screaming baby in the next room.

She'd been using mildly throughout her pregnancy, just a bit of weed here and there, and of course her dearly loved cigarettes. However, after she was born was when she really descended.

Weed turned into ketamine, ketamine turned into cocaine, and cocaine and turned into heroine.

She'd always smoked weed and drank, starting at an extremely young age. She'd had no one around her who'd cared enough to stop her, and it helped to fill the aching void in her soul from being brought up in a world without a parents love.

She'd been put up for adoption the second that she'd popped out of her mum, and she'd never found out who either of her parents were, even after trying to track them down in her adult years.

She'd desperately wanted to put ash up for adoption, but she didn't want to put her through that; she knew the torture the system inflicted firsthand.

Most of the time she couldn't even look at her daughter, but she still felt it better than her being in the system.

It wasn't until recently, that her seizures and narcolepsy became the worst it's ever been in her life, that's she realised that she can't do it anymore.

She knows she's never been the best mother, and she'd never claim to be, but after seeing her daughter seizing on the floor, that scared look coating her eyes, she knew that it wasn't fair anymore.

She couldn't bring herself to help her, let alone talk to her most of the time, despite how much she's been trying, it's never going to happen; she's never going to love her.

She regrets the decision that she made all those years ago, and still remembers the last time she'd ever seen Chris.

They'd been high school sweethearts; the alternative power couple.

She'd found out about her pregnancy just as the band had started recording when love met destruction.

She knew they were going to be big, successful, and she knew in her heart that she couldn't ruin their chances by offloading a baby onto Chris. He didn't even like kids, and he'd explicitly said that he'd never wanted them, and neither had she.