Blood elves.

rarest of the rare.

strongest of the strong.

and yet, oh so pathetically simple to manipulate, oh so easy to hammer and shape to fit your will.

I thought to myself with tears streaming my face as I gazed far into the horizon of burning, melting city.

destruction as far as the eye could see.

pain, death, and needless violence, as far as the eye could see.

I sighed, my breath full of regret, as I clambered gingerly atop the collapsing railing that was already failing to safeguard this balcony as it was.

my mind, made up.

my sins, too much to bear.

even when my new cold-hearted emotions had been taken into consideration, the guilt, the remorse, it lingered still, it persevered defiantly as if a stubborn old man amidst a storm.

I smirked, a little, as if laughing at my own innocent joke, while I took a deep breath, and leapt.

I gasped for breath and jolted upright, panting like I'd run a marathon and just absolutely drenched in a cold sweat.

my mind, my heart, going a mile a minute thanks to the unwelcomed visit from memory lane.

I sighed, wiped my forehead with my forearm, and then swung my legs over the edge of the bed so that I could make my way to the bathroom.

so that I could check to see if I was really still securely fastened within my mask.

my lie.

I winced as I made it to the mirror, and looked at the haggard reflection staring back at me.

the young, black-haired woman, staring back at me.

her reflection a mix of pain, deep, unimaginable sorrow, and guilt.

which, was especially more so when, as usual, like clockwork every single time a dream of the past crept past my defenses, I waved my hands by my ears, and in an instant, the two appendages transformed from flat human, to knifed elven.

to reminders of who I used to be.

I kept quiet as I hurriedly changed them back and put on a fake smile right in time for my husband to walk, no, drag himself into the bathroom like a zombie freshly arisen from the dead.

his arms quickly wrapping around my stomach from behind, his head buried in my shoulder.

"bad dream?" he forced out in a dry voice in an attempt to distract me from the fact that the only reason he was holding me like this was so that I could both help him stand, and avoid the blinding lights above the mirror.

"yeah, you?" I asked, desperate to shift the focus away from myself.

"I wouldn't call it bad." I could almost hear the smirk in his voice as he released his right arm and trailed it down my navel, only to stop it at the top of my black lace panties.

"though, some say dreams are better than reality, I'm curious about what you think of it?" he wondered in his usual horny way.

I giggled softly, completely out of my control, and used my right hand to play with his hair, and my left to rub his arm.

"you're not even awake right now, are you?" I shot with a grin, point blank.

smiling just a little more as he groaned and huffed before replying, "not even a little, no. seriously, how do you do it? how are you a morning person?" he asked while I began moving out of his grasp so that I could herd him back to bed like he was one of our kids back when they were younger.

"ask God, though, I still have some questions for him myself, so, if he answers let me know." I tried to play it off like a joke as I got him back under the covers.

but, deep down.

that was the cold hard truth.

that was the realest thing I'd said all goddamn day.

I huffed, shrugged in a, "fuck it." manner, and yanked some pajama pants off my dressed before pulling them on and meandering my way out of our room, down the hall, and into the kitchen.

where, to no one's surprise at all, sat my oldest daughter, her face illuminated by her laptop neatly resting atop the table, the smell of coffee already in the air.

hell, she didn't even look up, or stop what she was doing when she heard me come in, she simply pointed to the freshly made pot on the counter.

not that I minded of course, if anything, it was one of our most cherished times with one another, it was our moment where we didn't need to talk to understand one another.

but, as much as I love silence, I did have a part to play afterall, and if I do say so myself, I was pretty good at it.

I exhaled, and after clearing my throat, looked to the girl and said, "that better be homework over there, I don't need grandkids at my age." in the most serious tone I'd ever mustered before in my life, and I commanded vampires, Lycans, and Beasts for fuck's sake.

I couldn't hide my snicker as the poor girl panicked.

"MOM!" she half whispered; half shrieked.

"what is wrong with you?! of course its homework!!" she wanted nothing more than to hide her flushed, cherry red face, or die of embarrassment, then again, knowing her, she'd probably do both.

I smiled as I sat opposite her.

"relax, I know you don't need a website to meet boys, you inherited my genes after all!" I let out, unashamedly smug.

"but, that's not the issue, no, you're too nerdy, you gotta get laid my friend, you're so uptight." I groaned, probably an inappropriate thing to say to my own child, but, fuck it, I've done a whole hell of a lot worse.

I figured as she, acting more like the adult, slammed her laptop shut and repeated the first word she spoke to me this morning, much in the same tone too.

"MOM!" she just, could not believe it, somehow? I mean, she's lived with me her whole life, I do not understand it.

I continued thinking to myself as she stuttered and stammered with red face that instantly gave her away.

"I-I-I...w-w-w...what?!" she let out, unable to hold eye contact.

now, I don't know if any of you have had kids, but, that, that shit right there, dead fucking giveaway.

I grinned, shiteatingly.

"ohoho, does miss goody have something she'd like to share with the class? spill, you like someone, who?" I asked fucking RIGHT as my son walked into the room, rubbing his eyes and yawning, effectively socially cock-blocking me and shutting the conversation down.

I exhaled, visibly deflating as my daughter internally celebrated no doubt, while her brother noticed us and began asking questions.

questions that let her change the topic in a heartbeat.

I clicked my tongue as her brother wondered, "why in the hell are you two awake?" in much the same groggy tone his father couldn't escape from.

"homework." Jocelin, my daughter, responded quickly, too quickly.

which, not only gave her control of the conversation, but made it to where I was passenger on this ride.

I shook my head slowly side to side in impression, I mean, just, wow.

I admired as he fell right into her trap by asking, "sure, homework, what, were you two talking about something I want to know about?" in a way that sounded like he had figured something out.

I almost felt sorry for the boy as she replied, "well, if you insist, so mom and I were talking about how bad my cramps get whe-" she didn't even get to finish as he darted out of the room covering his ears, not in the slightest bit interested in periods or the gossip of teenage girls and their moms.

I just, had to give it to her.

"clever girl." I let out under my breath as she smiled back at me, scooped her laptop off the table, and made a subtle beeline right for her room.