Maybe it was the fact that she was standing in front of my exit, but something inside me told me that I had to persuade her in some way. “I need to uh,” I didn’t really know how to explain my desire clearly. “Return back to my home that is whatever this world is.”

    She was looming over me. “There is no need for that, my child. You are home.”

    “Well I- Excuse me?”

    What did she just call me?

    “I’m… 25,” I corrected. “What’s-”

    I stopped. Something is wrong. The look in her eyes. There was something off about them. That motherly character was still present as she smiled at me, but the more I gazed at her vulpine face, I realized the composure she had was beginning to falter. Not of anger, but of… something else. Something I couldn’t exactly describe.

    Does… she truly believe I was her child?

    Uh oh…

    Her demeanor and attitude was still calm, of love and motherly, but it was tainted. Tainted with something more… maternal, as I stare up at her, and I realize now.

    She really doesn't want me to leave… and I don't think she’s going to let me…

“Come now, child. Mother knows best.”