Chương 113: Two-And-A-Half-Years-old (end) Everything Is Going Well In The Best Of All Worlds.

"Toooo much" with a dumb little burp, I fall, yes, I fall. Defeated by the tasty meat on my plate. With all the hope and all the energy of a sloth, my head comes down to rest on the table.

"This." A big breath escapes me, I talk like a defeated asthmatic "This."

"This my worst enemy" My fork pierce down on the savory and juicy slab of meat, one that's almost finished, but still here, there's like... three more bites remaining, three more. This is it. The fruit of my efforts. A hand ruffles my hair from behind. And my grip on my fork tighten, I've been working hard on not going haywire on my mother the second she touches me. I've been having problems with being jumpy. But showing that I'm jumpy is gonna create a shit ton of problems.

Don't really know when this started to happen, never really experienced it before because nobody really touched me, or was close enough to me to do shit like patting my hair, but fuck. I'm a twitchy fucker. I'm reallly twitchy.

I guess I should have been ready for this, and to be honest, I was, never really showed how twitchy I was, always maganed to hide it someway, or by acting like I was being pouty, or acting like I had a random baby thought and continuing my sharp movement to do dumb baby stuff like putting a fork on my head. Or just restraining myself at the last second. Still, getting used to the random affection from my mother still makes me want to pull out a kunai from my pocket and rage into her like a rabid dog.

I need therapy.

"I know nebe, I know, but you can do it, I believe in you" she says that with a fake cheer in her voice, as if I was fighting against a supervillain or some shit.

"I can. Do. IT!" I pierce the juicy cutted piece of meat, and shove it in my mouth. A voice gently chides me from behind "Be careful with the fork nebe, it's dangerous" If only you knew woman. I only you knew. Ignoring her as best as I can, I work on chewing the fruit of my efforts. Never knew it would taste this good, and this horrible at the same time. I changed my life so well I'm constantly being overfed now, I'm gonna become even more chubby if this continues! I've been enjoying this mood for...

some months already. It's always pretty much the same. Sometimes my father stays home for longer and shit's hit the fan, but most of the time it's chill. A drop of sauce drops on my T-shirt necktie, and my mother grab the side of it and tries to wipe it off. When she doesn't manage she pats my back and say "I'll fix that for you later, finish your meal" Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. Yeah, she's gonna fix that.

Because those last few months, she proved herself pretty reactive in getting me better clothes. Oh right, didn't told you about that. But since she stopped going to the brothel, she picked up couture again, and that means my clothes that didn't fit me are now in the trash! I HAVE GOOD FITTING CLOTHES! Apart from my cloak who's still too baggy but like, that's a different subject altogether! This is what I call luxury! This is what I worked for! New clothes! My father away and busy drinking to death!

My grandfather not suspecting me! A monopoly! New MAGIIIC POWERS! And of course, tasty, home cooked meals! Swallowing the piece of food in my mouth like it's the hardest fight I've ever had, I nod three times at my mother and with a fire in my eyes, take the second to last bite on my path to victory. I WILL WIN FOOD! YOU WILL NOT BEAT MY BABY BELLY! Fuuuuck, I'm suffering from success. It's a good type of success though.

The exasperated laughter of my mother reaches my ear as she sits on the chair beside mine, finishing the little gloves she's been working on for a day or two already. Yeah, that's a good type of success alright. And that's why I can't let anyone take this success of mine. Get up. Train. Train. Train. Train. Eat with my mother. Train. Train. Sleep. This is life. Well, with all the training mentions, it doesn't sound that great, but maybe it sounds better if I say this. Get up. Meditate with my flow for a while.

Get a workout in. Go hunt some game and practice my aiming skills. Practice my sliding and sticking while traveling over the rooftop of the city and go back home. Eat with my mother for an hour or two, talking more than necessary, and take he gifts she's in the habits of giving me since money appeared. Go in my room and practice more of my magic, practicing my control and getting used to my bread and butter spells. Finish the day with innovation by trying to figure out new techniques I can use. Then sleep.

THIS IS A GREAT DAY! And this has been my days for the last few months. And this has been magical. More or less. There's some problems for sure. For example there's my pain who's still growing for some reason, even if I don't know why, but I have a fix with puking water. And I'm getting more and more used to tortu-! To healing myself that way.

Then there's the war, but it doesn't look like it's gonna touch our village apart from economical problems, so as long as I secure a good economy I'm fine, and I have a monopoly. So I'm fine. There's some people targeting my monopoly and my mother is searching for a new job and she's willing to go... pretty far to get it. But! I found a way to get her a safe job cause nepotism, and the people targeting my monopoly are random monk-! Guys I can easily take care of.

There's also my father still exists but he's not home a lot. So really? Everything is fine. In the best of all worlds. And nothing. NOTHING. Will change that. With an immense effort of will, I take the last bite of my food. And with each chew my mother cheer me on "nebe go! Nebe go! Nebe go!" I swallow the last bite. She stops cheering. I lift my right hand in the air like all might, my fork tight in my fist.

"I DID IT!"

"Yeaaaaaah! You did it!" She starts clapping but stops soon enough to laugh as I slouch on the table with no strength left. This was worse than fighting the giant snake. As I'm dying on the table, my mother, BETRAYAL, take my cute little hand and compare the size of my baby hands with the size of the gloves she's creating. Yeah. That's what I call good suffering. No one and nothing will change that. I'll make sure of it. Nothing bad will happen. Right?