Crimson Peak *Warning: Spoilers*

Dark Side of the Moon

Disclaimer- This chapter alludes to mental illness, self-harm, and suicide. Please do not read if these are sensitive topics for you and/or cause discomfort to you. Seek help if you are struggling with any of these issues. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

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"Come here, sweetie."

Artie inched closer to her mother.

"Your hair is all tangled. It'll only get worse if I don't fix it."

Her mother's walnut hair was in a thick messy bun on top of her head, her aquamarine eyes seemed to glow in the dark with the half moon shining through the window. She sat on the floor  in her loose magenta nightgown. Her drawings scattered.

Seven-year old Artie tugged on her snowy hair as she tip-toed between the sheets of paper. Charcoal and oil pastels were smeared on the off-white paper. Some of the designs were abstract while others resembled figures Artie felt she's seen before. Her mother made a nest with her legs, and Artie slowly lowered herself onto her lap. Her elegant fingers deftly combed through Artie's hair, carefully and gently picking at the knots.

Artie scanned through the drawings and felt her heart sink with fear. From this angle, the black smears seemed to have mouths and the pastels looked like life but frozen in flat wax. 

"What do you see?" Her voice whispered in her ear, leaving goosebumps on her skin. She fought not to shiver.

"I don't know," young Artie said meekly.

"Do you see angels or demons, my love?"

Artie didn't know how her mother can see anything but demons in the chaotic designs. Even the occasional splashes of color seemed ominous somehow. As though they were going to be swallowed up by the darkness.  

"Demons."

She felt her mother nod against the back of her head as her arms wrapped around her. Artie felt the puckered ridges that lined her mother's forearms as they grazed her flawless skin. Her unease began to melt away as she felt her mother's warmth and heartbeat against her back. 

She's okay.

Artie felt her body shift towards the window as her mother turned. 

"There's something you need to remember, my dove. We are creatures of both light and dark, just like the moon. We can never be all light or all darkness. At least, not all the time. It waxes and wanes. There is no shame in that. We need to embrace it." 

Artie felt her mother's hands still for a moment before continuing to work through the tangles. 

"But," Artie's small voice quivered. "I want to be good." 

A kiss nudged the side of her head. 

"Darkness is not always bad. It gives us a different kind of strength and it can soothe in ways that light cannot. Do you remember who you were named after?"

"The goddess of the moon," Artie recited.

"And do you know what she was known for?"

Artie shook her head.

"She was a guardian and a huntress. She knew how to protect but also how to kill. She had the strength to save those she cared about but also the strength to destroy the ones who wish them harm. She was equally powerful as she was beautiful. A pure flower with poisonous thorns."

Artie listened with rapture. She never heard this story before.

"That is my wish for you," her mother continued, and Artie can hear a smile in her voice. "I wish for you to embrace all that you are, darkness and all. Only then can you truly be at your most powerful."