The Devil Has Her Mother's Eyes

"It's gonna be okay baby." she said between breathes, "You're going to live a lot longer than that old, fermented prune sipping, bitter, baby back bitch.

I was welcomed into the world by the sounds of waterfall, my mother's screams, the feel of her cold, wet chest in air so thick with terror my cries went ignored. My mother held me in one arm, squatting with her back to the rough cave wall; knees spread wide while her other hand pointed a small black gun at the rushing water, anticipating the silence that ensued after a loud "thump" was heard on its other side.

She wasn't use to being so vulnerable, physically or otherwise. She was the fox after the white rabbit, the wolf in sheep clothing, the mother of cunning and kind. Her kingdom was invisible at her discretion and her rule, a state of mind...The thief of thieves, turned queen and all though her empire were so small in her arms in that moment, she would one day rule many.