Dark and Quiet

  To the best of my recollection, night was always my favorite time of day. Even back in the oldtimes, when I was a real person. At night, the everpresent overbearing mother was quiet. At night, there was no dark look behind my father's eyes. Even back then, I can remember seeing well in the dark, I never needed a flashlight.

  I wasn't right as a kid. I know that now, I have the ability to see just how things were wrong, but when you're a kid you don't see things with perspective. Kids shouldn't be suicidal like that. I feel badly for little me. Poor thing, stuck there in time, unable to take any action for herself.

  So I'm glad I was taken. At least here I have some agency. That me from back then wasn't well set up to live well. Maybe sometime I'll check in on her, but for the most part I find that whole idea to be a little creepy.

  After Martin took me to Childhome, they brought in a therapist from DeAkka to work with me, and MotherMonk Sara prescribed day passes so we spent a number of pleasant afternoons picnicking in good fresh air and sunlight, reading old books and snacking on chicken and cucumber sandwiches. The scenery was always amazing. I read Watership Down on Watership Down, but I didn't see any rabbits the whole time we were there. Those afternoons with Sara are the only time I can recall liking the daytime.