Friday, September 2, 2011

Day Twenty-Five: Tomorrow never dies

Today’s my last day for guarding the queen’s tree. I’m feeling a little better today, diary. Not much, but a little.

The queen’s the reason for my improved mood. Daena may have given me the boot, but she doesn’t seem to hold my desertion against me. She’s just happy that I didn’t get hurt. She says I’m gonna need my whole body to keep up with a baby, what with diapers and nighttime tantrums and peeing and all.

I guess she’s right. And I guess I’m glad I won’t be guarding out here again. None of the other guards have children, as far as I know, so they’re expendable.

Yeah, that’s a terrible thing to say. But they can actually defend themselves, so I don’t feel too bad. They’re also jerks, Philip aside. And he’s, y’know, dead. And now a jerk of a ghost. So...

I’m not sure where I’m going with this.

It’s nice out now, at least. The rain stopped last night, so burning all the goblin corpses wasn’t that difficult. The queen told me stories about her kids, so I feel a bit better about Libby’s pregnancy. There are some good things to look forward to, assuming my baby isn’t a brat.

Libby’s constant complaints of pain and her assaults on the castle make me wonder if it will be, though... what’s going on in that belly of hers...?

Now I’m just waiting for my shift to end, which should be in two hours. It’s hard to keep track of time out here, especially when it’s cloudy. Somebody needs to invent a clock you can wear on your arm. Maybe I should look into inventing something like that. I’d always be looking at it to see when my shift’s up, so I guess I’d call it a look. Makes sense, doesn’t it?

Hum. Baby soon. Baby, baby, baby.

I don’t have much else to say, diary, though I guess I can end on one piece of solid advice the queen gave me:

“Love your child. No matter what it is, how it looks or how it acts, love it. A loved child will love in return.”

It’s good advice. I wish my own parents had followed it when I was a baby. Or at least my dad. All he ever did was tell me how worthless I was. And then he'd hit me and tell me to feed the eels. What great parenting.

When did I become so emo, diary?


Dragomir the Guard

No comments:

Post a Comment