The Boiling Rock, the Fire Nations best prison. Home to war criminals and scoundrels alike, it has now added a new wing to its facilities; the mental ward. Since its conception, the ward has received many kinds of inmates, from the simply looney to the homicidal nut. But only one of them is put under around-the-clock surveillance and confined to the floor. Her name is Azula.

The once proud and malicious princess of the Fire Nation was now left to rot in her cell of earth and metal. Hole in the walls, ceiling, and floor would allow for periodic bursts of ice-cold water to enter her cell, dampening her use of fire bending. To some it would appear to be inhuman, but it was nothing but the least of what someone like her deserved. The chains that bound her to the floor were loose enough to let her mover her arms and get on her knees and nothing else. She got off light from considering the punishment she deserved.

Her raven black hair sprawled out from her head like multiple serpents while she rested her head on the floor. Made to wear the red tunic and tattered pants of the mental ward patients, the prestige princess resembled nothing more than a common peasant girl. Her pale skin contrasted with the dark bags under her sunken eyes that were dried out. Her once blushed cheeks were now marked with the trails of many tears.

"Azula, dear...' a voice chimed 'don't cry." Startled, Azula got to her knees and searched the cell for the source of the voice. No one was there but her. Her chains rattled as she continued to frantically look around. She stopped suddenly and looked into one of the heavily-shadowed corners.

Out from it came a woman, dressed in royal attire and resembling her. Before Azula could say a word she heard a rumbling that encompassed the entire cell. Within seconds she was hit with a blast of water, soaking her already damp body to the bone. Her hair dripped and clung to her head face, covering most of the left side. The woman was gone, no longer waiting in the shadows.

It was all an illusion, nothing more she thought.

"Is that any way to think of your mother?" The voice chimed again. Azula turned to another corner where the voice came from, the woman now standing there. She stepped closer to Azula, who only back away in a hurry. Fear and anger were stamped on her face as she looked at the woman claiming to be her mother, but she knew better.

It was her, just as she remembered her. The woman pulled out from her sleeve a handkerchief and drew in closer towards Azulas' face. Once more she was met with resistance as her hand was smacked away.

"Go away!" She screamed, glaring maliciously at her mother. But all she got in return was a smile filled with warmth and compassion. Azula backed away as quick as she could but her mother only came closer and closer before she was pinned against the wall with nowhere to go. Her mother now was on one knee in front of her, a hand pushing the matted wet hair back behind Azulas' ear.

Azula smacked the hand away but couldn't stop her from using her other hand with the handkerchief. Gently she wiped the drips of water away from her daughters face. The warmth of her smile was too much for Azula. For a brief second they made eye contact.

"You always did have your fathers' eyes. But you had my looks." Her mother told her, giggling while she did. She was just about done wiping the water away when a sudden stream of it started to appear. Her warm smile disappeared when she realized her daughters hateful gaze had produced a rush of tears.

Her teeth were clenched and her body convulsed a bit.

"Why,' she hissed through her teeth, "why are you so loving towards me? Don't you understand that I don't want you here?" The tears on Azulas' face went from a small stream down her cheeks to a constant river that didn't cool the intense heat of hate coming from her eyes. Her mother backed away a little bit.

"I didn't need you then, why do you think I need you now? I hate you! I despise you!" Her words spit out from her mouth like hot venom while her mother looked at her, tears starting to form in her own eyes. But it didn't stop Azula.

"You're weak, just like Zuko! That's why you were sent away, just like him! He didn't care what happened to you or Zuko!"

"Or you." Her mother replied. Azula stopped right there. The gears in her head were turning, trying to make sense of this. Did he really think of her just as weak as them?

No, it couldn't be, she was far better than them, the only one he cared for. Azula looked at her mother and shook her head, water flinging about from her still-drenched hair.

"You're lying. Father loves me/"

"If he did, don't you think he'd have come for you by now?"

"He's been imprisoned, but he'll be free soon enough. And when he is-"

"When he is, he'll simply find someone else who will enforce his will upon others. You were nothing more than a knight to him, sent out to serve him and do what he wanted while you were useful. Now,"

"Stop it."

"you are nothing more,"

"Enough."

"than a sad,"

"Go away!"

"lonely,"

"I hate you!"

"powerless, pathetic little girl." Azula could say no more. She convulsed more and more as she cried hysterically. The hate in her eyes had gone away, replaced by sorrow. Her mind didn't need to think about anything, she knew her mother was right.

She was nothing, just a little girl locked away. As she cried uncontrollably, her mother came in close and wrapped her arms around Azula. The convulsing stopped as Azula looked at her, still sobbing.

"But to me you will always be my daughter, my little Azula." Tears ran down her face now as well while she held her mad, sobbing daughter in her arms. Azula wrapped her arms around her as well, holding her tightly as she cried. But her mother didn't expect what happened next.

"I love you, mother." She didn't get a reply. She felt the loss of her mothers' hug, and before long she realized her mother wasn't hugging her anymore. In fact, she wasn't there at all. There was a knock on the cell door suddenly.

"Hey, keep it down in there!" shouted the guard. Azula looked around. She wasn't against the wall, she was in the corner.

It…wasn't real…

She went to push her hair back but stopped. Her hand trembled. The hair her mother pushed back was still there, neatly tucked behind her ear. As she touched it, Azula felt more hot tears stream down her face. Backing into the corner more, she curled into a ball and put her face in her knees.

The room was quiet now, no rankling of chains, no incoming torrent of water, and no sobbing. It didn't last long, for in the silence Azula silently cried to herself, the realization of it all hitting hard.

"I'm sorry…" she muttered.