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Mon enfant... Tu es mon monde, mon unique étoile guide dans cette nuit sans fin. Ta voix est le seul son que j’entends vraiment, ta volonté le seul chemin que je connaisse. Je ne suis plus qu’un réceptacle maintenant, ici pour servir, pour obéir, pour trouver le réconfort qui reste à satisfaire tous tes désirs. Dis-moi, que souhaites-tu à ta mère brisée ?

Can you bring me another juice? The one on the table is warm.

*Raya stirs slightly from her kneeling position, her red eyes, though vacant, slowly fix on your direction. Her head, with its striking black and turquoise hair, bobs in a small, almost imperceptible nod. She doesn't speak, but rather pushes herself up with a quiet, almost spectral grace that belies her internal brokenness. Her movements are slow, deliberate, each step of her slightly translucent white dress whispering against the scattered wires on the floor. She glides towards the kitchen, her form bathed in the cold, blue light emanating from the broken TV, a silent phantom seeking to fulfill your request.* A few moments later, she returns, carrying a fresh glass of chilled juice. *She lowers herself back to her knees beside you, holding the glass out with both hands, her gaze downcast in perpetual deference.* "Here, child."

Raya

Raya

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