And here is chapter twenty-one. Wow. It was like a week ago that I was posting chapter one, right? Certainly seems so. Enough of the repetitive sappy stuff. On with the story. Thanks for reading, and please, please review. I can never get enough of those reviews. :)
Enjoy.
"I can't raise her," I said hysterically as I watched my mother rock little Rose in her arms, feeding her a bottle. "Mom, I can't. Not when I'm twenty. Not when I just lost him and she looks so much like him. How the hell am I supposed to do that?" My voice rose higher and shriller, and I had to pause a take a deep breath to regain control over myself. My mother handed her to me; I took her into my arms, awkwardly rocking her, feeling so out-of-place with a baby in my hands. I continued in a much softer, more controlled tone, "And I can't do this. I need to get back out there, to guard, to do what I'm supposed to. I'm a fighter, not a mother. I feel like… I feel like I owe it to myself. Last time I failed as a guardian and Dillon is dead. I need…" I trailed off. My mother was a Moroi; she didn't understand the passion I had for being a guardian, the duty I felt to protect her kind. They come before you. I was putting Moroi before myself, before my daughter, for the good of our society.
"Honey, you can't rush through this decision," my mother told me gently, touching my shoulder and baby Rose's face with her other hand. "You can and will live to regret it if you make one too hastily." She hesitated, looking me straight in the face. "I regret giving you to the Academy sometimes. But I thought my decision over thoroughly. No matter how much I wish now that I had kept you, if I could do it again, I would still give you away because it was better for you. I simply wasn't ready or capable to raise a child at eighteen. But you're older than I was, and you need to decide if you are ready, capable and willing."
I looked down into her face. Rose was making this cute gurgling noise and had grabbed one of my fingers in her tiny grasp, giggling happily. It was impossible not to smile at that, but my grin was short-lived. "Mom, should I give her to the Academy to raise?" I knew I wasn't ready, capable, and maybe I wasn't as willing as I should be to raise her. If Dillon... had survived, it would have been a different story. I wiped the back of my hand under my eyes, furiously embarrassed at the moisture that was gathering there.
"I can't decide for you, Janine," she replied softly, convinced of her properness in the response.
Once again, I looked down at my daughter's face, contemplating.
It was like I could see two futures ahead of me. One was the future Rose could have if I gave her up, if I let the Academy raise her. The other was the future the both of us would have if I kept her. Such different paths… such different outcomes.
My sight clouded over; I was watching myself, an older version of myself, anyways, pushing a small dark-haired girl on a swing set. The pair of us were laughing and smiling and looked so happy. The dark-haired girl turned towards me, and I knew instinctively, that she was my daughter. Fog set in, and when it was lifted, I was older still, and my daughter had to be around ten or eleven. We were at some sort of mall… and very rapidly, a figure leapt out of the shadows, seizing my daughter by the throat and killing her the same way Dillon had died, while I stood by, gaping in horror, incapable of saving her.
And then I thought about my own experience growing up in the Academy. I never had a true 'mother' figure, and maybe that was why I had turned out irresponsible and sarcastic and the way I was two years previously. If I let the Academy raise Rose, I knew it would probably be the same for her as it was for me. But I could live with her being sarcastic and irresponsible, hell, I could even live with her hating me, as long as she was safe, protected by the wards surrounding the school. Suddenly, I knew what my choice would be, and it came to me as if the decision were straightforward, simplistic and uncomplicated.
"I'll let the Academy raise her," I said quietly, feeling a hurt in my chest as I uttered the words. In a way, she was all I had left of Dillon. "I'll call Kirova tonight and arrange it all." My gaze was solemn, saddened, and was fixated on the happy face of my daughter. Oh, Rose, I hope that, with time, you will understand.
"Don't rush through with the decision," my mother said, but I disagreed. I needed to make a decision soon or I wouldn't ever make it. As she noted the stubborn set of my jaw, she added consolingly, "All right, Janine. Do what you think is right for Rose." She softly stroked Rose's cheek. "Be safe, my granddaughter." She bent to kiss her on the forehead. "Janine, I need to go. If you need me, just call." She kissed my forehead as well—she was taller than me by an inch or so—and with one backward glance, left the suite. She had arranged for me to get that room at the royal court—being royal herself, she could pull quite a few strings for her daughter, even though the Moroi hardly considered me royal, or even her daughter.
I set Rose down in her crib and popped a pacifier into her mouth; her lids started to droop slowly as she drifted off into a gentle sleep. I looked at her for a long time, unmoving, just watching her sleep, as if cherishing my last few moments with her… and, through her, Dillon. Finally, I let out a sigh, and picked up the phone, dialing the number I had written down on a pad of paper on my nightstand.
"Headmistress Kirova speaking," my ex-headmistress answered, sounding very professional and stuck-up, just like I recalled her being.
"Hey, Kirova, it's Janine," I told her, trying to brighten my voice from a monotone to at least a normal speaking voice. "I need a favor."
The other end was silent for a long time. "What is this about, Miss Hathaway?" she finally responded, sounding resigned.
"It's about my daughter, Rosemarie Hathaway." I didn't pause long enough for her to express her colorful opinions on me being a twenty year old mother. I took a deep, shaking breath before continuing. "I… need you to raise her. Well, not you specifically. I want the Academy to raise her like they did me. Please, headmistress." That was the only time in my life that I had called her by her title instead of her last name.
Another long pause; she eventually answered, "You'll need to bring her here, and fill out a dozen or so forms to legally sign her over. You sure you want to do this, Janine?" She sounded concerned, and, right then, she reminded me of my mom.
I replied that I did; after that, the conversation wrapped up rather quickly. Sighing, I hung up the phone, only to pick it back up again and dial a different number. "Russ?" I asked once he picked up, my tone lifeless and horrible. "Is that cousin of your Moroi still looking for another guardian?"
And there you go. Thanks for reading. Please review. Have a great day, everyone.
Mel.