your best friend could be your worst enemy
It's been a long time since I wrote in this. maybe I just can't face my own thoughts. It's getting increasingly difficult to look at those dead men in my morgue (well, not quite mine, but we're getting there), and not think that one day, I could be seeing someone's glassy dead eyes twice within days.
One of these days, they're going to make me kill someone. Or, one of these days I'll go mad and they'll probably kill me. Eleanor tries to understand and make me feel better about it, but the fact is, until...until those screams echo in your mind until you've been there yourself, you can't understand.
I look at my son and I wonder what he'd think of me if he knew all that. I come home and play games with him and read books with him...and then there's an off chance that I'll get dragged out, not to heal someone's wounds, but to kill someone.
Talk about conflicting loyalties. For once, I actually have very little idea how I would actually act. And it terrifies me. I can't tell anyone, though, not even Amycus. They'll think I'm a traitorous coward. Maybe I am.
Anyway, back to work. I'm supposed to be looking out for Caradoc Dearborn's body. Nice, Lucius, kill an annoying useless twat instead of somebody who might be useful.
Anybody need my services, whilst I'm here?
Oh, and those of you looking for Shacklebolt, I did check the hospital records, he hasn't been in here since that riot. Sorry.
That's all, I think. Oh...wait. I think Fenrir's been having some...interesting fun this full moon. Right. I'll go deal with that.
Theo's a good little lad. Apparently, spends most of his time at home reading or enacting strange little plays with his stuffed toys. Although I'm rather amused that the owl turned out to be the culprit. He had sticky wings, it seemed. It's never who you expect, is it?