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 Posted: Mon Oct 21, 2013 10:06 am
 Cethosia couldn't stop from peering into the room with interest, ears flicked back and eyes wide as she watched the woman she had been tracking for.... what, days now? She had seen the woman once, when she visited her father for some reason or another. And then, she vanished the second Ceth peeked her head into the room. But, it was her. She was her mother, and Cethosia knew it. She remembered that voice when she was a bowl! Sure, it had been screaming and frightened, but she knew it!
And now, with her great skills at tracking, (mostly asking around, it seemed she had a lot of male friends who knew her! Lucky mama!) she had found her mother's home.
Her mother was leaning over a table, a bottle of booze in her hand and her head resting in the other. Her shoulders twitched time to time. The kit felt a glimmer of excitement touch her heart, hands eagerly trying to open the window but, instead, she was met with resistance. It was locked! Well, this didn't stop her! The grey-haired kit leapt from the window, and crawling off towards the door. Her tiny hands pressed against it, surprised when it opened and she almost went tumbling to the ground. Oh! Mama should be more careful! The tiny kit tentatively inched inside, opening the door (and locking it so mama can be safe!), and padded into the barren hallway.
'Mama seems like she doesn't decorate much... I could give her some of my finger paintings....' The kit pondered to herself as she traveled down the hall and peeked her head into rooms until, finally, she saw her! Mama was right there at a old, wooden table in the kitchen. The bottle seemed half empty, and it was a pretty golden color. Her mother.... was she... crying? Those red cheeks and pained eyes seemed an indicator of it....
"Mama, don't cry." She called out, moving closer and outstretching her hands. It was okay now, because now mama knew she was here! There was no reason to cry now!
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Posted: Mon Oct 21, 2013 10:21 am
 What had she done?
She had promised herself this would never happen. She wasn't fit for this! She wasn't meant to mother children. And yet, one careless night had resulted in two bowls that she wished she never had. Children. No. Not for her. She had never been the type to take care of children, and it showed that one night she abandoned the bowls in Runchy's care. She had just left them, and while she knew it was the best idea at the time it didn't stop the fact it hurt.
They were mistakes, her mistakes. And now they'd grow up without a mother. She had created two children, and couldn't be in their lives. This was her own damn fault, wasn't it? It was karma for the times she slept around with married men (and women). Now, she had children. Hell, she had even seen one when visiting Runchy!
The guilty was too much. She couldn't be these kids mother, and dammit, she didn't want to be! She wasn't meant for this responsibility! Being a mom was bullshit. She liked partying. She liked sleeping around. She liked the drugs and sex and alcohol. But, ********, she had messed up. Now what? What happens if they came looking for her years later? What happens when they realize she isn't this beautiful thing they had conjured in their heads for years? Or.... did they not even care about her? Why did that sting? Why did that hurt just a little? It wasn't like she'd ever try and be a damn mom, and yet the idea she could easily be tossed aside hurt.
But, hadn't she done the same to them?
Another swig of the bottle was in order. She wasn't made for these kind of thoughts.... The liquid burned as it slid down her throat, fogging her mind as she had wished. She wanted to forget those kids. Forget the fact there was a boy and girl who resembled her, if just a little. She wanted to just forget, and forever. She wasn't a mom. She didn't have kids. She didn't just abandon them. She didn't rob them of having a mother, something she personally loved having. Her own mother was someone she admired greatly. And yet....
And then the voice.
Atlas froze. Her head snapped around and eyes widened as, suddenly, a small child seemed to just appear. Fear fluttered in her heart as she saw the child's coloring and tail. She looked like Runchy, which meant.... She was the result of whatever the hell that orange bowl had become.
No!
She leapt from her seat, stumbling and having to catch herself by placing her hand on the table. No. What was this mistake doing here?! Why was it looking at her with such fondness? How the hell had it gotten here? Was it Runchy's fault? Was it her own? Was it karma? ******** karma...
Her voice stammered as she spat out her next sentence. "Why the hell are you here?" Her voice dripped with venom, and yet her heart hammered in pure terror. No. No no no, she wasn't supposed to see that bowl with eyes and limbs! It made it all too real that she actually had children. At least when they were bowls they couldn't talk to her!
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Posted: Mon Oct 21, 2013 10:28 am
Cethosia froze, eyes widening at the fury she felt in her mothers voice. No, Mama was just confused! The kit looked up at the woman, tail wagging gently as she eyed the other. Okay, so Cethosia didn't resemble her mother much, or even at all. Except.... she had piercings like Mama! That meant her mother liked piercings, too! The kit, now encouraged, grinned up at her red-faced mother, moving just a little closer.
"I asked around!" She answered, tail wagging a mile a minute as her ears perked up. "I finally found you!" Her grin widened. She had, hadn't she? She finally found her mother! Now that she examined the woman, she vaguely resembled her brother. Vaguely. The kit fidgeted with her hair-clip as her nerves finally settled in. She didn't know what to say! Maybe that she wanted to know her mother more? Maybe that she missed her mother? Could you miss someone who never was there? Maybe she could tell her about her paintings? Or about how her brother and her looked off from both parents? Or that she met other kits? There was so much to say and do!
With her arms outstretched, the kit made a move to approach and hug her mother, overcome with emotions of joy and love. She finally could hug her own mother!
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Posted: Mon Oct 21, 2013 10:36 am
Atlas almost dropped when the other seemed unfazed by her anger. Her eyes coldly viewed the child, her daughter, and she flinched back at that grin. That innocent grin! Why was this girl so happy to see her? Hadn't Atlas abandoned her? Hadn't she been the one to label them as unwanted the second they came into her home? Yet, this stupid child was outstretching her arms for love.
She was nothing like Atlas, and this only furthered the chance of her even reaching that motherly instinct. She could detach this kit. It wasn't hers. It wasn't her child. It wasn't her daughter. She could deny it, now. She could pretend and cover it. She didn't know what that boy looked like, either. She could blame it on others. This kit was not hers. It wasn't her daughter. It wasn't her baby. It was some random kit in her damn house, and looking for a mother who didn't want her.
And yet, those eyes...
Guilt shivered in her heart, and she swung for the bottle, seizing it up. The kit was approaching, and the panic grew. No. This strange girl couldn't force her to be a mother. She couldn't assume she'd be loved by Atlas. She couldn't. She shouldn't. No. She needed to kill that hope. She needed to shatter it and smother it until she wasn't supposed to be something. Maybe that was what scared Atlas the most, the fact that this kit expected so much from her when all Atlas had ever been was a screw-up. Maybe that's why she threw the bottle at the kits feet. Maybe that's why her voice ached as she screamed and shouted at the kit.
"GET THE HELL OUT!" Why did she feel guilt as those beautiful eyes widened and the small body stiffened? "You're a mistake! Get out! Get out! Get out of my god damn home!" Why did it hurt when the kit backed away? "You aren't welcomed in here! You aren't ******** allowed! Get the hell out!"
Why did it break her heart when those loving eyes reflected fear?
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Posted: Mon Oct 21, 2013 10:47 am
The bottle shattered at her feet, slicing her tiny toes with tiny shards of glass. She ignored the pain, heart frozen as the woman she had dreamed of loving screamed at her. The words hurt. The bottle hurt. But it wasn't that which hurt the most. It wasn't the hatred she felt in the woman's tone. It was those orange eyes. It was the complete lack of love within them. It was the fact that Cethosia was viewed as vermin that hurt the most, and she could see it. The kit trembled, heart fluttering and skipping in her tiny chest as she took a step back, mouth opening and closing as she realized nothing she could say could fix this. She had been wrong. Her mother hadn't left because of logical reasons. No. This woman had left her because she didn't want Cethosia. Her brother and her had been abandoned, and this woman didn't need her. She didn't feel the love Cethosia felt when their eyes had met. She didn't want the kit. She didn't want tiny arms around her. She didn't want finger paintings. She didn't want to know about the kits friends.
She just wanted to forget the kit existed.
Pain. It wasn't the sharp sting she was used to when she stepped on glass or tripped on the sidewalk. It was a deep, aching, throbbing pain within her chest. It was suffocating, wrapping around her lungs and forcing gasps from her throat. Her hands flew up, clutching in a ball against her chest as she bent over, trying desperately to catch her breath. The world was shaking, her vision growing faint as she stayed there. She wasn't wanted. She wasn't needed. She wasn't loved. This woman wasn't her dreams. She wasn't the one she thought would cry in joy and embrace her. No.
The woman was screaming again. Cethosia couldn't hear her words, only the muffled screams as her hearing slowly became drowned out by the sound of her own heartbeat. Movement. Her head jerked up, mouth letting out a squeak of fear as her eyes met those hateful ones. No. Stop. She didn't want this. This wasn't what she had expected. This wasn't what she had dreamed of. This.... wasn't supposed to happen.
And then the woman grabbed for another bottle. Without thinking, the kit turned and fled. She yanked open the door she had so carefully locked to protect her mother, and she ran into the sidewalk, heart pounding as tiny legs ran, trying to take her far from the nightmare. Far from the house where she had thought would be the beginning of many beautiful memories. Far from the woman who despised her very existence.
Far from the place she didn't belong.
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Posted: Mon Oct 21, 2013 10:58 am
The kit wasn't moving. She had swung herself into a bent over position, but that was it. She hadn't run away yet. Why? She wasn't needed! Atlas couldn't be her damn mother! She wasn't fit for this! She wasn't meant to be this for that damn child!
So why the hell did she remember her own mother so vividly? Her own mother had been so bad at being a proper mother, and yet Atlas had adored her. She had looked up to her mother. She had viewed the woman as the ideal creature to become. Nights of Atlas just watching her mother talk flashed in her head. Her mother had been no better than her, and yet.... Atlas had absolutely loved her.
Stop.
Atlas had been different than this child. She didn't have that naive, innocent glimmer in her eyes. She had been broken from the beginning. She had been like her mother, and she loved her mother for it. This child wasn't like her. This child was innocent. Sweet. Loving. This child was pure. It wanted love, and true love. Not the superficial kind Atlas thrived off of. This child had no place in Atlas' life. She'd just break the girl, unable to give her what she needed in the first place. This child would want the world from Atlas, and her heart would break when the woman couldn't give even half of it to her. Atlas couldn't. This child would break under her care. This child would become lonely, and she would hurt far worse than if she never knew Atlas in the first place.
She needed to get this kit out of her house before it was too late.
Her hands grabbed for another bottle, heart aching as she raised it. 'Stop.' Her hand trembled as the kit looked up, eyes widening in fear. 'Just give it a shot.' A squeak reached her ears, sending her heart into a sharp frenzy of pain. 'She's your daughter! You're hurting her! Stop it!'
It was too late. Her hand lowered just as the kit fled. Her mouth opened too late, missing the kit as the child ran out into the world outside. "W-wait." She whispered as she dropped to her knees, bottling dropping from her hand and rolling under the counter. "Come back." She choked, crumbling into herself, arms tightly wrapping around her slim form, trying to keep the pieces together as her chest heaved and sob escaped.
"Come back..."
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