For context, I was born as an eve awhile ago and happened to find a small civilization. I settled there and built on it. I got so into it that I put a peace lily there. I did have a son at one point in one life but was mostly alone.
Until this one life where I had my daughter. I named her Hope. She asked a lot of questions and I told her all she needed to know; that we were alone, my plan to build a house, that there was a village north-west, etc. She noticed that I was getting old and told me not to die because she’d be sad. I told her that when I do die to do her best to make the civilization thrive. She promised she’d do her best.
So we lived as mother and daughter together alone in a idyllic little village. Until that day when I’d asked her to help me with building the house. I’d told her to make wood flooring and noticed she kept wielding a knife. It was slightly odd but i didn’t think much of it because she was my daughter, ya know? And then it happened.
She. ■■■■■■■■ STABBED. ME. That’s right, the daughter I’d raised with tender loving wholesome care ■■■■■■■ drove a knife into my chest. When I voiced my shock and horror, she simply replied “srry”. Confused, I asked “why”. She revealed to me that she was the eve of the village. Oh god. I banished her on my deathbed and she happened to perish of starvation right then and there but I swear if I’m reborn there and have a child again, I am killing them at a certain age just in case.
And if the backstabbing griefer (pun intended) reading this happens to see this, this is Rebecca Plunt speaking. This means war!!
