Maura was four when she said the darndest thing.
“You’re so much nicer than my old mommy. She tried to eat me.”
She was my baby. Years of trying and finally, God gave her to me.
It got worse when she refused to go to school, crying, kicking and screaming “I don’t want you to die!”
One day, we were buying groceries. The ground trembled and saltwater seeped in from every corner ‘til it hid my knees.
Maura looked at me sadly, “It’s alright, mommy.”
I watched, throat cauterized, as she shed her skin and let the waves take her.