There is a man, tall, with hair like liquid silver, standing in front of me. His eyes are kind, but turn hard when he sees me and my burden, writhing in pain along the ground. Hard and murderous, hate-filled eyes. He reaches down, his long fingers like a claw. I know what he's reaching for. I am caught between maternal protection and the promise of escape. Untimely Death would be better than this life.
I wake with a start, and grit my teeth in pain. I can feel it growing inside of me, stretching, biting, clawing my belly in its search for freedom.
What did I do to deserve this?
All around me are strings of pearls and clean white sheets. I live on a dais, a throne, and I wonder if I will ever be able to leave. I can no longer walk; I can't even see the lower half of my body. How could a child grow so large in only two months? I lie here like a beached whale, surrounded by strings of pearls and cool white sheets, splayed and uncomfortable as this thing twists inside of me.
It's evil, I know it is. It's begun to affect me. My dreams have become dark and frightening, of strange men with hateful eyes and sinful angels reaching out to kill me. My words have become sharper- I cannot stand the sight of another human. Even my sister, my dear sister, insults me with her presence.
I pick up the mirror laying by my throne. It is a beautiful thing; chestnut inlaid with mother of pearl. The mirror is silver polished until it is as clear as a mountain stream. I hold it up to my face, wondering at what I see. My eyes are so much darker now, so… evil.
I scream in agony, and the mirror falls safely into a cradle of sheets. For a moment, I want nothing more than to hear it shatter. The monster is scratching my womb with its tiny and angry fingers. Never, in the history of man, did a creature like this exist. Why should I be the one to carry it?
Indeed, the pearls have become shackles, the sheets a cage around my body. And always, always, the word scratched into my womb echoes forever in my mind.
Rain.