My little sunflower. I watch, as you stretch your tiny limbs, reaching for me. I am your sun. I, who have always been cold as death, am now the warmth that gives you life. Your face, just a moment ago a tight, angry red ball is now smooth, white and pure like mother’s milk. I touch you in wonder. It is a softness like I have never felt before, a softness that soothes my callused fingertip as I draw it gently across your rosy, baby cheek.
You stare up at me, the wonder in your squinty eyes mirroring my own. They are still adjusting to the world around…but even at this early stage, I know you know me. Clear green eyes so unlike mine, sparkling like the ripples of a stream in the sun. I lose myself in you.
I watch, seeing my pain in your eyes as your face turns red once more and then blue, and your eyes lose their sparkle as they dull and glaze over. You no longer know me.
And yet you reach out blindly, fingers stretched towards me, even as I strangle you to your death.