It feels like longer than normal since I smelled my sunshine. I hope she didn’t get punished trying to get to me. I miss her, and I try to keep track of how long it is between times that I see her, but once they pump me with whatever they are putting in me, I lose all track of time.
I’m struggling to stay calm, needing to smell my addiction, my sunshine, when I hear my mother’s voice.
“Ancalagon!”
He told me my mother was dead. He said he sent her to kill her mate, knowing it would kill her because I was close to being ready. Ready for what, I wasn’t sure. All I know is that they’ve been pumping me more frequently lately.
When my mother tells me to hold on once more, I tell her to hurry. I truly don’t know how much more of this I can take. I’ve been strapped down too long; the only sce
