Mother //south park// // slight dip//

Mother.

// Everything is from damiens pov, probably just going to be a oneshot //

I've had so many parents, mothers, not biological of course, i suppose adoptive is a better word but it wouldn't be true, every mother of mine was chosen, they had no choice in the matter, they would raise me and burn that was the fate father set, i used them as nothing more than a way to get into the mortal world, a way to enter earth, a guard against anyone who'd question me. I found that i couldn't remember them for long, over the years the list built up and up of the people i damned and the mothers i abandoned to suffer the same fate everyone will eventually suffer, i never thought id remember any of them, never mind have the woman burning there in my head like revenge for what id done to the others, as if she could possibly see me or hear me just like a taunting song trapped there, i suppose ill start from when she took me in as my south park mother.

She was called Anastasia, such a ridiculous mortal name so long and unneeded, i thought it was idiotic and was hoping to take some entertainment from mocking it, but she seemed to agree with me, preferring anna over her normal certificated name. Not that i ever had to use it, she didn't want me to call her by it, but she didn't want me to call her mother either, or step-mother, or ma'am, nothing that i was used too, not like the grand stuck up family's i was normally thrown into, no she wasn't any of those, she was mommy. I couldn't understand why it made such a big difference, this new name she'd chosen, one that only i was allowed to use, one that made her eyes light up when i used it as though i was making her happy just by letting her be there, it didn't click either, why i felt such pride in being able to say it, why i wanted to be on her arm and by her side like some little child of god afraid of my own shadow, i knew all well that i was the scariest thing in the town yet clinging to her made me feel..warm?, yes warm, a new kind of heat that hell doesn't have, that warms your insides and makes you tired and slow, at first i thought it was some sort of weapon of gods angels, an illness, but by the first month i found satisfaction in pulling myself onto her knee, pouting till my hair would be pet and played with, as if i was a babe that needed that comfort, tch.

She treated me odd, obviously Christian but showing no upset as she caught me stripping the walls of the crosses that covered them, taking down the ones from above my head that i could barely reach, simply smiling at me and petting me as if it was a cute quirk that didn't bother her at all, stating that god would have to sit it out if her 'little baby boy' didn't like it. She seemed almost over caring, as the anti Christ i was still open to infection though it passed far faster than that of a human child, even so she'd hold me against her, feed me even though i could manage it myself, she'd hold me and warm me, help me stand, wrap me in over sized blankets and sweaters and allowed me to hide into her like i was a startled animal, even singing to me sweet little songs that i've long forgotten the words too. I even found myself managing to sleep, not having to wait out the night and use my powers to keep me running and awake, i was..happy there, i shouldn't have been, i should have pushed her away or done anything, im not supposed to grow attached to these people, i was feeling for the first time and it was disgusting. Leaving isn't supposed to hurt /me/.

Then came the day of school, the start of my fathers biding, to start corrupting the other children and seek out Jesus Christ the holy one!, it played out like it usually did jumping on the desk and yelling about the dark plans, tossing kids desks out of the window (some fat chubby child that walked like a waddling penguin), and doing my best to avoid the lord preaching kids that would give me headaches, Nothing bothered me, not even the ones that would throw crosses or yell prayers from across the room, nothing. Until one child, wearing an orange coat that smothered him spoke up, calling my mother a "Dog", that was different, i felt my stomach flip from the small comment, i could feel the heat of the rage rushing to my cheeks, i felt my body tense as though he'd doused me with holy water, such an odd feeling of rage and pride, like he'd insulted my very being. All i knew was that i wanted to make him something far worse than a dog, something lowly, something freakish, a burden to everyone around him, i wanted him to feel so much pain. So i did.

Then came the day to leave, the day i had to 'dispose' of her, and i stood in our house, every exit sealed closed, no way in or out for anyone, flames eating away at the walls, and my job was done. I was supposed to leave and go, just call for my father, jump, run anything. But i couldn't do it, she yelled for me, just before i was about to go, she yelled my name, called for 'her baby'. She pulled me into her arms and held me so close and just sat down on the floor with the house around us crumbling under the flames power, she whispered sweet things to me and put me in her lap, cupping my cheeks promising me id be okay, that i was going somewhere beautiful if we couldn't get out, she was willing to stay and let everything around her fall with me, she told me i should sleep and.. i wanted to, fuck how i wanted to, but father grew impatient, and before i knew it she was being strangled by hellish beasts and i was being tugged 'home' but it wasn't home to me anymore, and for the first time i didn't want to go, i wanted her, not any of the other demons that would dote on me and praise me, and for the first time i found myself screaming for my mommy, clawing and pounding against the arms that held me, doing anything to try and pull myself back reaching out as i watched the light seeping from her eyes, and for the first time, i closed my eyes shut, for the very first time i didn't want to see someone die. 

But that doesnt matter anymore, iv searched hell countless times, daily just hoping she'd be somewhere, anywhere, but shes not, she's never going to be, I refuse now, to be planted into familys, i refuse to get close to one again, i wont. And id never admit it, but i hate staying with pip, even when we sleep with his arms around my chest cuddled up into back, even when he kisses all over till i know he's safe, i say im worried about him but as selfish as it sounds im not. I hate how he falls asleep before me, and how his door opens just a crack, i hate how the light streams in over my eyes and how a shadow quickly blocks it again and i hate it as his step mother leans over him, whipering sweet little things in his ear, stroking his hair and kissing his nose, i hate how he has what i dont, i want my mom.