𝐕𝐈. 𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄 ➵ 𝐏𝐉𝐎 𝐱 𝐇𝐏

001.

  ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

⟻ NEPENTHE ⟼

001.

the dreams.

——— ☾𖤓 ———

"Shh. . . . ." A young woman cooed softly as she walked towards the crib standing in the corner of the room. She quickly scooped the baby up in her arms as she cradled the baby gently. "Mommy's here, baby. . . don't cry. . ."

The baby's cries slowly died down as he felt his mother's touch.

She smiled softly at the sight of her baby clutching the front of her shirt tightly, her tears clouding at the thought of what she and her baby will have to go through. "Remember, Leon. . . . Mommy loves you very much. . . Even when I'm no longer with you. . . I'll always love you." She whispered, pressing her cold lips on his forehead.

She looked out the window, watching the explosion outside her apartment window. The floor shook slightly, but she tried her best not to flinch as she held onto her son tightly, protecting him from anything that could harm him.

Lost in her own thoughts, she was brought back to reality as she heard the knocks on her door.

She felt her throat close up as she realized what was about to come. She stood still for a few more moments, ignoring the rapidly growing knocks— before she took a deep breath and started walking towards the front door.

She held her baby in one hand and used the other to clasp around the door handle, hesitating just a few moments. She wanted more than anything to just run and hide away, but she knew she couldn't.

A war was happening behind these walls, she knew that her son would be taken away to an orphanage, she knew that she would have to be imprisoned— simply for the crime of being different. But her son was going to be safe, right?

So with another deep breath, she pushed the door handle down and opened the door. She was greeted by the sight of three armed and uniformed men, staring at her coldly. The woman bit her lip slightly before sighing defeatedly.

She looked down at her son and smiled softly, "Mommy loves you, baby. . ." Kissing his forehead for the last time, she gently handed her son to the man standing right in front of him. "Take care of him, please."

When she no longer felt her baby, the woman tried to ignore the voices in her head screaming at her to grab her baby and run away— it was for the best.

As soon as the first man was out of sight, the other two roughly grabbed her arm, "You're coming with us."

She didn't even bother trying to fight, not them— nor the tears in her eyes.

As she was dragged away, her last thought was only the promise that one day, she will be reunited with her son. One day.

——— ☾𖤓 ———

Waking up after a particularly rough day— the young woman was greeted by the sight of bars covering the walls. She was locked up— of course she was. She was what they would call a 'witch.'

She wasn't, not really.

She was merely a woman— a dark-skinned woman. With curly hair and enchanting green eyes, eyes that could stare into your soul for hours as if looking right through you. That was all it took for them to come to a conclusion that she was a witch.