Rewrite of "Red Cap" from the Wolf point of view

This Woman

He

The Woman Who Sits in the Chair

Confessions of An Unwed Mother

Dear Everyone,

"Get it off your chest."

"Lighten your load."

"Confession is good for the soul."

"You're only as sick as your secrets."

How shall I ease my disclosure? I have wanted to tell you for years the things I will finally say. Mostly, I live the unexamined life deemed not worth living by Plato. I don't wax philosophical with the same passion that buoys my children and lovers. For me, a mountain snow is as breath-taking an experience to behold as a plowboy leading a team of mules. Imperative, urgent, seasonal. A civil rights group marching on Washington as graceful a dance as a red-tailed hawk circling it's prey. You may laugh, but I am a product of natural law. Yes, you do forget this often.

I feel little discomfort in telling you that I have had many lovers and married not one. This, I'm quite certain, you already know. A few have written songs professing my beauty and their undying love, forthright and committed while in the throws of passion. I don't recall sending any one of my lovers away, though they leave. With a clash of ideals I see the first signs of unrest and they are gone. Though I am saddened by these losses of adoration, I am not broken or seriously harmed. So, alone, I bear the beauty and the grief of hurricanes, fires, floods and downed 747's. The mischief of clear-cutting forests and slash-and-burn. Even so, I am still convinced there is a brave new world.

I am witness to the grand confessions of rich men, poor men, serial killers, thieves, pyromaniacal corporate slugs, presidents and priests. I listen in on the small, precious "ownings up" of children; toy breakers, puppy tail pullers, class bullies, little sister pushers. With each of these I may always be as compassionate and understanding as I am judgmental and cruel. Still, disclosing my secret to you now is not made easier.

Catholics receive Absolution and do Penance. Criminals receive Immunity and do Freedom. Homosexuals receive a seat on Jenny Jones and get Murdered. Presidents receive a Subpoena and get Impeached, or not. Addicts and Alcoholics receive The First step and do Eleven More Steps. And I? What will I receive when I give my full confession? A hug, kiss, golden locket? I cannot afford to be concerned. I must tell you now.

You have broken my heart. I begot you children that I love and adore, yet, I am not proud of everything you do. For all for the lovely qualities in some, I cannot abide what others have become. You are arsonists, terrorists, rapists and thugs. You commit unspeakable crimes of homicide, genocide, suicide and abuse of power. Are you the children that came from my womb? The sibling rivalry, elitist drudge. You are deranged and inconsolable. And you are not only a few. I cannot disown you. I am your mother. I am the keystone. I will always do what I can for you. A good provider, I have sheltered and fed you, strengthened and guided you. I have given you the means to heal your wounds. Still, you are out of control. Some appear soulless. You have harmed yourselves and others, including me, and I am angry.

Having kept silent for far too long, I ache as I write these words. Still, they are not my most difficult secret to confess. I won't be making the same mistake again. In warning I tell you, the most agonizing confession for me is this. My beloved children, before you can kill me, I will kill you.

Cat