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“You knew.” Big Mama paused, stiffening as she walked towards her desk. Frida wished she could see her face. She wanted something to go off of, even if her mother had a good poker face. Frida needed some detail. Some assurance that Big Mama felt anything. “All my life, I thought I was a yokai with a defect. That my six fingers were not natural, a mutation from kappas’ normal ten.” Her volume was increasing but Big Mama didn’t move. She didn’t turn to face her daughter. Didn’t make any action or sound to imply her words had any effect. How dare she.
How dare she.
“But it is a mutation! I am a mutant! You said mutants were gross once my brothers came! But you always knew.” She was nearly shouting now, tears flowing down her face. She screamed “You always knew!”
“You looked so much like him…” Mother said, unmoving. “And your blood… so unique.” Frida ripped off her mask.
“I thought this was normal! But I could have had a childhood! I could have been free!”
Silence.
Then: “He abandoned you, sweetie-pie.”
“I’M NOT SAYING I LOVE HIM! I HATE HIM! HE LEFT ME!” Frida shouted through sobs. “But you,” she gritted out. “You hurt me so much. He left but you didn’t.”
“I gave you everything!”
“But did you give me love? In the same way HE GAVE HIS SONS?”
“See, and that’s just it, Frida. He loves his sons. Not you. He never wanted a diddly-daughter. But I am not going to reject you because of that, darling.”
“I could have had a family!”
“You do have a family, Turtley-boo.” Big Mama finally turned towards her. “You have me.”
“No, I don’t.” Frida dropped her mask and stepped on it, shattering it with her abnormal strength. “I don’t have them, but I don’t have you either. I’m on my own now.”
“Hmm, are you now?” Mother didn’t move towards her, staying on the other side of the room. There was something in her voice now, a lilt that made Frida more terrified than any other voice her “mother” could have used.
And a dart hit Frida’s neck.
She fell to the ground, everything blurry as her mother’s feet came into view. “You really were like him: stubborn, too emotional, and weak.”
“No.” Frida choked.
“You just lacked all of his positive traits.” Her feet became blurred as her vision spun and darkened. “Pity. Perhaps T… could use… maybe PF… I am… they…” and Frida slipped into unconsciousness.