Alicia Free

What a tragedy, to exist with no possible hope of an ending. Death is a promise. You can look back on all you’ve done and smile when you know there’s an end. It can light a fire under you, knowing that today may be your last day. I wake up day after day knowing that there will always be a next. I watch world events knowing that I will see dictators and presidents and messiahs come and go. I’ll be here. I look at my husband and know I am trapped in loyalty for an eternity, trapped to watch him age and wither. And then what? Another man? Another cursed child? I see my daughter and understand that we will continue on, me required to teach her and forced to love her and guide her, forever.   I don’t want this immortality. I don’t want this family. I don’t want this life.   I cry so much that sometimes I think maybe I CAN die. Maybe I’ll suffocate on all this sorrow. My child, my Astor, her hope disgusts me. My love for her degrades me. How do I explain to this worthless monster that we are not natural? That, if she could cry,