writing_shadows

I've pasted a little something below from my ICLJ as a warm up. (I just wrote it, so I think it's fair.)

In Greek mythology, Lachesis (also Lakhesis, Greek: Λάχεσις, English: "disposer of lots", Etymology: λαγχάνω - to obtain by lot, by fate, or by the will of the gods) was the second of the Three Fates, or Moirae. She was the apportioner, deciding how much time for life was to be allowed for each person or being. She measured the thread of life with her rod. She is also said to choose a person's destiny after a thread was measured. In mythology, it is said that she appears with her sisters within three days of a baby's birth to decide its fate. Her Roman equivalent was Decima. According to Hesiod's Theogony, she and her sisters (Atropos and Clotho) are the daughters of Nyx (Night).

She heard from Elias the decisions which had been reached. Staring out the window, she nodded absently, shrugging when he asked how she felt.

How should I feel, she thought cynically, hands resting in her lap. How should I feel when it's all coming apart around me, and you could have fixed it, but you were part of the problem? "Fine," she answered blankly.

She watched the condensation drip down the side of her glass as afternoon faded into evening, without moving. Attempted to achieve the state of empty mind that would bring her peace, since pregnancy meant no wine, no drugs, nothing fun. Nothing except being healthy and protecting the lives inside her.

For not the first time, she resented them. She loved them, or would, when they were proper children. But right that moment she hated them, and she hated that they changed nothing about Michael's life, only her own. She wondered if this made her a bad mother, that she wanted him to suffer like she was suffering.

She wondered if she only felt this way because she no longer felt in control of anything. Not her Chamber, not the Ladder, not her own life.

The glass left a ring on the window sill. She frowned, wondering if it would hurt the wood of this house that she didn't really like. It wasn't the house she had wanted, but Michael said it was safe here, and how could she argue with that. Safety.

Finally she fell asleep, cheek pressed to the window, blanket around her shoulders. She wasn't fine, but since it wasn't going to change, did it matter?

At least in her dreams she wasn't falling apart.