We Tell Each Other That We're Still Sane (Kier&Barrone/FVK)

We Tell Each Other That We're Still Sane

The magic was working slowly around the room, black magic flicking around the woman's fingertips in bright blue and green sparks, as she tried anything and everything she could to stop the baby being born. She didn't want it - it wasn't right for it to be born, especially considering what the father had done, but it was happening.

There was no way to get rid of it without taking her own life, and even then there seemed a problem there. Countless suicide attempts had been tried, all of them resulting in paramedics being informed from some unknown source and them reviving her before any proper damage could be done - but she had been warned that if it was going to happen again that she was be institutionalised. She didn't care, all she wanted was the baby to leave her - for it to die and that would end everything that was going wrong in her life. Even with that threat of being put away, she had gone ahead with trying to take her own life - and ended up in a psychiatric ward with no way of getting out any time soon.

Her only refuge in this place was the practice of black magic that over time she had slowly but surely becoming addicted to, like it was some kind of drug that she had to have all the time, had to have it in her system. They could take her home away, her potions and her spell books but not her magic. No one could take that away from her.

They could however take the child away to save it from any harm.

One cold Sunday morning she went into labour, screams erupting from her mouth as she cursed and swore that she would kill the thing that put her through this much pain. It was a fast delivery and she heard someone say quietly that a boy had been born, but she never got to see the thing. She didn't get to hold it for fear that she would try and take it's fragile life away once again, so it was taken from her room and she was left alone. Only a few nurses came in to check on her every so often, but none carried with them the baby they had taken.

She became agitated, twitching and occasionally attacking the nurses whenever they didn't answer her questions about her son. She wanted him. Her hands began to twitch and her body convulsed, she knew what had to be done but there was no way around it.

She had to get out.

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Three days had passed since she had given birth and from listening through the cracks in her door she could hear that her son was going to put up for adoption and taken away from her - she was never to be able to see him. All that was happening was to stop her hurting him and herself in the process.

Her hands began to twitch and spark again as the anger built up inside her.

The spirits were growing restless and she knew what she had to do, there wasn't any time to waste. Her eyes flicked to the locked door and her hand twisted in a sharp motion, hearing the lock unclick, she slipped out then started running.

The spirits were guiding her, laughing and taunting that there wouldn't be enough time to do the deed before it was too late. Before everything was gone from her life and she would be left alone once again. They led her to a single, quiet room where one nurse was standing attending to the child. Her child.

"Put my son down," she growled as she stormed into the room. The nurse didn't have time to react as she was punched in the face, the woman grabbed the child then continued to slap and punch the nurse across the face, kicking her in the stomach repeatedly and ignoring the cries that slipped from her mouth, the tears pouring down her face - none of it meant anything. It's what fueled her to carry on, it's what fueled the magic that was building up inside of her.