Page 103 of The Nightmare Bride
“I didn’t see this,” I said, my heart thumping. “Can I read it with you?”
“Of course.”
I crawled onto the mattress, then propped my chin on her bony shoulder.
My dearest Amryssa,
Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh—I love you so very much. Enough that the word ‘love’ is only a pale descriptor for how I feel.
If you’ve read the preceding entries, you’ll know we’re not kin, at least not in the strictest sense. But in my heart, in some place in me that runs deeper than a soul, I am your mother, and you are my daughter. This will never not be true. Time could fill an ocean, then another and another, and still not diminish my belief.
Which may explain why I stopped writing in this journal years ago—you became mine. We became family. I only came across this diary again this morning, and I was surprised to see I hadn’t written in over a decade.
You’re eighteen, now. We celebrated your birthday just last week. I’ll never forget the way you blew out the candles, because I loved you for granting me that indulgence, for not proclaiming yourself too old to partake in such silly traditions. In our all-too-brief time together, I’ve cherished our sillymoments most of all. This was no different, even if the occasion was one I’ve dreaded all your life.
As you’ve no doubt guessed, when the sun set on our celebration, I didn’t return you to the swamp. Zephyrine help me, but I couldn’t.
I hope you can forgive me, my sweet daughter. Especially because I know you dream of leaving us, even if you don’t understand why. I see it in your eyes sometimes.
But I can’t let you go. I can’t let you vanish. So tomorrow, or next week, or maybe the week or month after that, I’ll go to the goddess myself. You see, there was one part of our bargain I didn’t write about here, in case your father ever went snooping. I didn’t want him to know, because I didn’t want him to stop me if I decided to exercise the option.
Zephyrine gave me a choice, all those years ago. When you came of age, I could return you to her, or offer myself instead, thus buying you an entire lifetime out here in the world. It comes at the cost of my blood—all of it, this time—but I can’t think of anything I’d rather spend it on.
Still, it’s hard to say goodbye. I keep falling prey to the lure of one more day, one more laugh, one more hug. The nourishment of hearing you call me Mother one more time.
It will never be enough, but I doom Oceansgate by staying. I know that.
Soon. I’ll go, I promise.
I have to.
And I’ll hide this in a place your father will never think to look. I only hope it finds its way into your hands someday. I want you to read this and understand why I’m gone, that it’s not because I didn’t love you enough, but because I loved you too much, enough that I couldn’t bear for you to miss out on all the moments that have brought me such joy.
I want you to fall in love someday.
I want you to forge friendships that remake your idea of the world.
I want you to laugh, and cry sometimes so the moments of laughter shine even brighter, and I want you to travel, and have children of your own, and see a thousand sunrises and maybe, when you’re old and wrinkled and exhausted, return to the swamp smiling. When you’re ready. When you’ve seen and done it all.
Or maybe you won’t want any of that. You’re a goddess, or borne of one—I still don’t understand exactly how that works—so maybe your desires will be different than mine. That’s all right, too.
Most of all, I just want you to have a choice.
So this is my gift to you, my beloved girl, blood of my blood.
A choice. It’s yours. Do with it what you will, and know that I gave it freely.
I love you, forever and ever, through life and death and everything in between.
Your adoring mother,
Coraline Marche
When I finished reading, quiet tears drenched my cheeks. Amryssa wept, too. She pressed one hand to her mouth, her fingers trembling against white lips.
“That’s... Wow,” I whispered. “Are you okay?”
“She died for me?” she warbled. “Thiswas why she went into the swamp that day?”
