Nadia
I fell into strange, vivid, shifting dreams.
Swaddled tightly and held close, I couldn’t move. But that was okay. The arms that held me were warm and safe. My face was nestled against the rhythm of a heartbeat that I’d known before I was even born.
“Nadia,” she whispered to me. “My sweet girl. My little princess…”
Mother, I thought to myself, though I was too young to even know the word.
My mother’s long brown hair curtained her face as she hummed a lullaby over me. She rocked my infant body back and forth. The gentle, lilting scraps of song she hummed were so familiar – as familiar as her face would be, I knew, if her hair would part so I could just see it –
Suddenly my faceless mother shrieked, reaching out for me as she was torn away – no, as I was torn from her arms
