((Mindset))

This story explored Siqua's feelings of guilt and shame relating to her past by giving us more context to what her "past" looked like. This corresponded with episodes by supporting her decision to continue her journey of personal growth and become a pacifist.

((I look at the baby in my hands with disgust. Everyone says she looks just like me, but when I see her, all I see is my husband. The husband who I love, but still fills me with hate; afterall, that's what our relationship was founded on. We both hated the world so much that it only made sense to marry somebody who felt the same way. I wanted so badly to live that perfect buttoned-up life, that I didn't quite care who I shared it with.

I used to like when he pulled my hair. We always screamed and hit each other and it was just the way we communicated. I didn't mind it. Until that baby came along. She does everything he does, and he does everything she does. Except my husband can say words, and he says plenty.

I was laying in bed when the baby started crying for the thousandth time that evening. My husband groans, and so do I. I had school and internship all day, and I don't need this, so I made sure to tell him that. He replied like he always does, "I shouldn't be the one taking care of your baby. If I had known I would be the one taking care of her, I'd never have had her."

I felt my face get hot. That's been happening a lot recently. "Don't say that in front of the baby." I said. I can't let him hear my tears while I face away from him. "Why not?" He says, "It's not like she really understands us." Both me and the baby are crying and I hate it. "Babies can sense tension and it hurts them." I channel the hotness into anger, like I always do when I quote my Child Dev. instructor.

"If you cared so much about the baby, you'd be in her life. She hardly knows the word 'mama', y'know." I know. I know. But I defend myself anyway, "My mama was the same way when I was a baby. It just takes a few months for the women in my family to feel happy again after having children." "It's been two years now." He says as he gets up, walking toward the crib. Damn, time flies.

Gaster and I established a meet-up spot in Waterfall, completely hidden and furnished to our liking. The next day, when I was about to leave, my husband stopped me. "Where are you going." It wasn't a real question, but I answered anyway, "Me and a classmate are studying." "Yeah, right, the classmate you can't go one day without 'studying with'?" "What are you insinuating?" It wasn't a real question. "You don't even go to work anymore.", he grabs my arm.

I hate my job. He knows that. I just want to be a good person. I'm just so tired. I said to him, "Gaster is a friend. Honestly, less than that! I pity him. I take care of him because he's so utterly pitiable. He makes horrible company, but he helps me in return with my schoolwork." And with that, I broke away from him and made my way to the hideaway, where Gaster had been for the past 30 minutes, writing furiously.

"How do you do it?" I said-- not asked-- through a sigh while sinking into the sofa. Gaster somehow knew exactly what I was referring to, and spoke without looking up, "It's not hard. I do my work while he sleeps. I hire a babysitter while I'm at school. I don't have annoying relationships obstructing me." I played with the telephone cord, "But how do you do all the extra stuff?" "We sleep in the same room. It's easy." Gaster wanted to change the subject, I could see it in his eye and the growing volume of his typewriter.))

I had asked him a similar question before the massacre. I couldn't fathom taking care of a child on your own, on top of college (and I still can't.) He acted annoyed, but something in him seemed almost giddy to talk about it. "I make time." He said, and he stopped himself from continuing, as if I would have hit him if he went on for too long. Which, to be fair, I probably would have back then.

I listened and changed the topic, and with the conversation with my husband still in mind, said, "My husband thinks I'm, like, in love with you or something. It's completely hilarious!" Gaster made a grossed-out face, "That's not funny at all. I would never be caught falling in love. I don't understand why people do it in the first place." "Usually, it can't be helped.", I grinned, referring to my husband. "Well, I can help it. Romance is completely pointless." he shook his head, talking down to me. As I said, Gaster makes horrible company.))