“ the song of despair ” : srp

Instructions

【 IN WHICH an actor crafts her first mask 】 “Hey, mom. Mother. I don’t think it matters much what i call you anymore, does it? …Mom still feels weird.” Nightingalepaw took a deep breath, and an even bigger sigh. What was she supposed to say? How do you talk to someone who’s never going to reply? She wanted to yell up at the heavens, ask her mom how she could leave just like that. Ask if those cats were really her siblings. She wished Swampeace could reassure her that they weren’t. Hold Nighty tight and tell her she wouldn’t lie. Tell her it would all be okay. Tell her she’d always be here. “But you can’t. Because you’re not.” She hadn’t realised she’d said it out loud until she heard her own voice, pitifully fragile. “You’re /not/.” She said it again. Stronger, angrier. Good. “You’re not here! You /left/ me. I hate you!” She was screaming by this point. “Ihateyouihateyouihateyou!” Her vision started to blur, and even though she wiped the tears away quickly, she couldn’t stop a few seeping into her fur. Nighty snapped her mouth shut to hide a sob, claws digging into the earth. It was this feeling again. This terrible panic as she lost control of the situation, and of her own emotions. It’d happened when she first heard the news about Swampeace, and when she’d met those two cats. She /hated/ being out of control. Feeling vulnerable and off-balance. And there was only one solution to that problem, really. Of course, Nightingalepaw already knew how to get people to listen to her. How to fake tears just as she was about to be yelled at or put on an act so angelic they forgot that two second ago she’d been sticking thorns in somebody’s nest. But that was different. She’d never tried to /hide/ her feelings. Well, needs must. And Nighty knew what she needed to do. She couldn’t keep losing it like this. She had to just care less. For someone who could get mad at the tiniest of things, it seemed impossible, but she had to at least /try/. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? It was just like playing pretend. Faking it till it was true. She could do that. “You know what? It doesn’t matter if you’re lying or not. Even if we’re related, they’re not my siblings. They never will be.” She whipped around and started to walk away, taking all her willpower not to run.