[Mkguild] Life As We Know It XXV

[Jack Moore]

AN: This is without a doubt the hardest section I had to write.  I am not a
parent, hope to be but am not yet.  As such I have zero experience with
children the way Janelle doe.  Big thanks to Matthiasrat for helping me
improve this section.

Fifteen Hours Remaining
“Mamma I wanna play!” Kaysar said, grabbing my tabard.  I pulled it out of
his little grip.  “Checkers!”
“I’m sorry Kaysar, mommy is busy.” I said, only glancing up from my notes.
 “I will play with you tomorrow, I promise.”  My son actually needed to be
in bed, but I was too wrapped up in this case to notice what time it was.
I had taken an hour to eat and another hour to go over every detail of the
case.  In truth I also needed to be in bed, but my mind couldn’t rest.  I
needed to know why Chamomile was here, even if it meant handing her over
tomorrow.
When you investigate a case you will formulate many solutions in your
head.  Eventually one will be the one you are convinced is right.  You must
do whatever it takes to fight against the blindness brought on by these
feelings.  Because when you think you’re on the right track, you will be
hard pressed to see beyond what you want to see.
One way that helps me is outlining all the facts of the case.  All the
evidence and everything it supposedly told me.  Right now I had a woman, an
outsider claiming to work for Nasoj.  At the same time she had a heavy
interest in the Curse, which was odd because she should know about it.
Supposedly she was here in the Assault but she kept getting facts about it
wrong.
And then there were the hair samples and the desk which showed many long
nights spent there.  What was she doing with them each night?  Why so
many?  And more importantly, where were they?
'Something is missing here but I don’t know what.'  I rubbed my eyes. 'I
woke up to early this morning, maybe I need some sleep. No, no I need to
focus—'
“Mamma I wanna play!”  Kaysar grabbed my tabard and yanked it with all his
might.  I grit my teeth.
“Kaysar, I told you no.” I made sure to control the tone in my voice.  When
my adoptive parents punished me, the thing that most upset them was the
angry tone.  Of course I always listened, while Kaysar kept pulling.
“I want too Mamma!” Now he shook my desk.
“Kaysar—“ In slow motion I saw it happen.  My ink well shook back and
forth, before toppling over.  A wave of ink washed over my list and onto my
lap.
I was furious with anger for only a second.  What came next was a feeling
of sadness, because my son Kaysar had always been a quiet and obedient
child.  I’d never had to discipline him.  Now I had too.
“Look what you did!” I took my son and pulled him protesting onto my lap.
Kaysar started crying as I started spanking his bottom. Then I stood up,
taking him with me.  “You are going to bed now!”
Kaysar cried so loud as I took him to our bedroom.  Every step my heart
broke a little.  It’s funny, I’ve never had trouble with murderers or
rapists.  It’s having to punish my son that is my impossible task.
“I don’t want to go to bed!” Kaysar screamed at me, as I tucked him into
bed.
“Yes I know.” I said.  “Sleep tight”  I left him in his bed and returned to
my desk.  The ink had dripped onto the floor and destroyed my notes for
today, along with several blank sheets.  “Marvelous…” I sighed.
My adopted parents were...not bad people.  They were hard to please and
quick to punish, but not bad people.  And with my son I said I would not do
as they did.  And then Kaysar does stuff like this and I have to punish him.
I wish I didn’t.
'Tabard is fine, pants are ruined,' I shrugged. 'I can replace those.' I
sat down to see what I could do about my notes. 'Okay, it’s not as bad as I
thought.  I can salvadge some of this.' In truth I would have rather been
playing checkers with my son tonight.  And I could hear him crying still
and it was all I could do not to go in there and give him a hug.
I was never taught how to be a parent, I just became one.  I wish their was
someone who could tell me how to be the best mother for my son.  Sadly no
such person exists, you have to figure it out as you go.
So I waited.  I waited until my candle burned down and my son stopped
crying.  Then I finally went to bed.
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