Hmm I think my experience is different.

The son was never alive. He was a dead mask that was sewn on your daughter's living skin when she was born; now she's old enough to break the stitches and take the mask off completely.

And I think somewhere deep down you knew what you did to her. You remember every stitch you laced into her flesh and you could always see the scars.

And now that you're dead I'll always look back on some unexplained things about you and wonder... did your family do the same thing to you?

It's sad that parents can't be happy to see their formerly depressed children showing signs of cheerfulness.

So true. I can’t wait to assimilate more people into the hivemind

vored from the inside out

The king is dead, long live the queen!

I absolutely hate this