My Dearest Warlock

Nanny

Brother Francis had dropped the bag of fertilizer he was using. Brother Francis looked at Warlock as though he'd suggested that Brother Francis go and star in a nude magazine. The man had been unable to form a sentence, much less look at Nanny Ashtoreth a few moments later when she came out to collect Warlock.

The afternoon was somehow even more disastrous, which was a feat in itself. Warlock had chosen that the best time to start jumping on his bed was during his mother's book club, which the group completely ignored- Nanny, however, wasn't doing it. It might have also been worth mentioning that he was screaming about the magazine he'd found.

"- WARLOCK! Have you even been listening?" Mackenzie frowned at Warlock, tilting her head to the side. Her eyes were filled with disappointment, which was odd considering that she wasn't really that old.

"Sorry. I just got lost in a train of though," said Warlock, sighing irritably. He just wasn't in the mood for a play date, considering that he didn't even really care for Mackenzie that much. Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis had made it bearable at the Dowling Manor, with their crazy antics and unique ideas.

"Come along 'Kenzie, we must be going. Say your goodbyes to Warlock hunny," said Mrs. Thirl, smiling at her daughter as though she was the greatest thing in the world. Gracefully, she walked over to Mackenzie and picked her up, hugging her daughter gently. "Goodbye Harriet. I'll see you at our next book meeting."

"I'll see you then," said Harriet Dowling, slowly strolling over to where Warlock was sitting. Dressed in a flowing white sundress, she looked simply beautiful. Her hair was neatly styled, one of the curls falling her pale face. The only thing that made her look dull was the lifeless look in her eyes, the thing that showed how truly miserable she was. "Come along Warlock. Your father would like to speak to you."

Warlock frowned upon realizing that his father probably was preparing to leave again. Each time his father was preparing to leave, he gave Warlock a long speech on how proud he was that Warlock turned out to be the 'perfectly ordinary, y-chromosome son'. In total honesty, that was the most that Mr.Dowling usually said to his son. Warlock almost thought that his father didn't love him, but now, he was certain that neither of his parents really loved him.

Whenever he was sad or upset, his mother pointed in the direction of Nanny Ashtoreth and continued to read her magazine on how to best get a good summer body. Meanwhile, his father hadn't even been home, as he was in a foreign country on behalf of the President- if he had been home, he would have told his son to toughen up and stop acting like a pansy. On rare occasions, his mother would give him some money and tell him to have Nanny Ashtoreth take him shopping.

It just felt like his parents really didn't love him. They just handed him over to someone else to care for, not bothering to pretend to care. Maybe it was the realization that without Nanny or Brother Francis, no one spent any time with Warlock- his mom had taken him to a park right before he turned eleven, so there was that. Everything about his family just felt forced, so forced that everything felt fake.

Fake was a fairly good term to describe the Dowlings- not Warlock, but his parents. Harriet Warlock smiled brightly at her guests, laughing jolly along with them. The moment they left, she lost her smile and retreated to her room, hoping to find out where the nearest party was. Mr.Dowling boasted about his family, proudly showing off photos to whoever was willing to look. In total truth, he didn't know much about his family, considering he saw them a couple of times per year- maybe twelve times at absolute most.

"Okay mother," said Warlock dryly. He slowly stood up, not wanting to hear the speech his father would inevitably give. Very hesitantly, he began to head towards the house.