Sarah hated this baby more than anything.

She hated this baby more than herpes, more than Hitler, more than death, and more than the Devil itself. She wasn't even entirely sure this baby wasn't the Devil itself.

This little….it, not even worth of being called a goblin was just solid, living proof that her life wasn't supposed to be like this. Proof that IT WASN'T FUCKING FAIR.

All it did was scream and cry and shit and eat and piss and keep her up all night and pull out her hair and drive her insane and ruin her body, and give her wrinkles and now he could never, ever love her again.

All because of this little shit.

Everyone, Irene, her mother-in-law and even her own mother told her it was just a matter of time, and that she was wrong and that she really did love her baby and it was natural to resent it a little and of course she loved the fucker and don't talk like that, and, you're just being dramatic, Sarah!

But she wasn't. She hated the little thing. She considered wishing it away. Not running for it. Having it turned into a goblin. But that would be admitting defeat. She could see him now, "Ah, Sarah, odd seeing you again isn't it? My, how horribly ugly you've grown. I almost didn't recognize you. Another baby for me, I see? What a disgusting little prat you've created. Takes after his mother, I suppose. No offer for you, it's a custom you see, any person truly wretched enough to wish away more than one child gets nothing. Nothing, nothing, tra-la-la. Well, I'll be off then. Enjoy aging and dying slowly. God knows you've already started. "

Besides, not even the Goblin King deserved this… this. And she didn't want him to see her like this.

It hadn't always been like this. Sarah loved the kid before it came out. She and her husband poured over name books, went to every doctors appointment, spent hours stroking her growing stomach, feeling him kick, listening to her bones creak.

Until the moment she saw him.

He was disgusting, even after the nurse cleaned him up and handed him to her. She looked down into his little face, and expected…something. Anything.

There wasn't.

He was the most average baby known to man. It had brown eyes, brown hair, weighed seven pounds, five ounces. Born April sixteenth.

Her husband, he worshipped the little shit. So did everyone else. Only Sarah saw him for what he was. A curse.

This is hat she got for refusing the Goblin King.

Because he may not have any power over her, he may not have any claim over Toby, but absolutely nothing stopped him from taking every speck of magic, of dreams, of the things that made life worth living from her.

But Sarah Williams was not one to admit defeat. She was going to live out her hell of a life, having horrible, awkward sex with her husband, taking care of a runt she hated, cursing the Goblin King's name until she dies, slowly, horribly, miserably, and alone, ever since she turned down her dreams at fifteen. Alone.

AN: I hate children. Could anyone see that? No. I just liked this, makes up for the crap fic I put out there today. I do like some of those angst fics, where the GK is all like, hurt me, bitch you don't know what pain is!, and then ruins her life. Also, these things are the most fun to write. Anyway, please review, because, unlike that shit I posted earlier, this is actually readable. Have a good night.

-Mari.