As the days moved on and each rising of the sun and the setting of the stars (though there were times when such a descriptor for her sister’s soul fires hiding during the brighter beams of day often made her smile involuntarily even during this time) the wound upon her soul grew thicker ever so slightly. The scab (for it would always remain nothing more than a thickening of blood and would never grow anything more durable such as scar tissue) covered the absence in her mind where her connection with Warren had been. It wasn’t anything clean cut, his death hadn’t been abrupt enough for that, nor was it carefully shredded in such a way that would encourage growth in another direction. It wasn’t even burned closed as if cauterized.
There really wasn’t any way to describe what it was, just what it was not.
It wasn’t like she had any other experience in what this feeling was like; despite her history with needing mental healing each was different in its own way.
But that wasn’t the point of her recollections this morning. No, the point was that she was surviving in a way that many had failed to do so even when they had so many others (mind healers amongst them) to shore them up and support them.
All she had were her sons, sullen though her eldest may be and going through a bratty phase though her youngest may be. And neither of them were even aware of half of what was happening with their mother, though, and here Mary found some slight comfort, a great deal of their ignorance in regards to her situation was of her own doing.
Life was hard enough on the boys and she would forever be grateful that her sons did not take after her the way she had taken after her own ‘parents’.
And that was part of the bafflement she felt.
Her own ‘parents’ had faded away when their other halves had died and quickly become warped from the wounds left in their minds.
She well remembered having to aid in…putting them down, for lack of a better way of explaining it.
So why was she so stable when in the past it had been well established that such a thing, being stable with or without aid, was almost impossible.