My Little Boy

I'm awake in the middle of the night again with no comfort to be found. I don't know how I can continue to be strong without reverting back to my former self. I had hoped that life was left behind when I had Madeleine. I stopped carrying weapons and tried to maintain a low profile. I never bothered anyone and, for the most part, people never bothered me. I reinvented myself, drawing on all the skills my mother drilled into me as a child. Some of them I began to fully enjoy, like playing the piano and singing. I think it's because this time I could sing what I wanted. I had freedom.

He took that from me. Why couldn't he just let me be? I was nothing to him! The lack of motivation is what confuses me. Now, my body is empty. The little life that was once thriving has vanished in an instant. I ache to feel those little movements, only reserved for me. He will never run, play, laugh, or love. I will never nourish him at my breast or watch him grow. I cannot even cry. The numbness is all consuming.

I feel myself hardening against the world. A part of me wants to send Madeleine away to protect her. My father would take her in an instant. My tormentor still believes him to be dead. Maybe I will. She doesn't deserve this. I wonder if she would be better off...... And Norrin....my sweet, kind fiancé. He valiantly offered to hunt the man down that killed our child. I couldn't let him. He has never seen combat. Never seen what people like this are capable of....

I carry two weapons now. A blaster left to me by Eliza and my knife, a hidden gift from my father. My skills are rusty. I practice when I can, mostly in secret. If he touches me again, he will pay for it with his life.