A Father's Fears

I stared down the crude but ghastly spear pointed in my direction, my infant son cradled in one hand, his dirty diaper in another. I did the only thing that I could. I threw it. Weighted down as it was due to not being changed since we arrived in this new place (I feel like such a bad father) it flew with more speed and force than I, or the goblin, expected. *Splat* it hit square on the nose, dare I say satisfyingly?

With a muffled - roar? more a gurgle - the goblin wildly slashed. I prioritized scooping up my son. I crashed through the thick underbrush, further ripping my clothes to tatters. For a second I thought I had lost the goblin, but the sounds of his foreign curses and screams proved me wrong. I ran as best as I could, but I realized he had the advantage in this terrain. I could hear it crashing behind me as I burst into a clearing. Thinking I now had the advantage, I chanced a glance and lost my footing. CRASH - curling my body around to protect the baby we tumbled head over heels. I landed on my side with Finn cradled in one arm. The goblin wasted no time. With a screeching battle cry it lowered its spear and charged. Not knowing what to do, I uselessly reached out with my free arm, as if that could stop the cruel creature. Fin screamed, the goblin screamed, I screamed. A scream that resonated deeply with some base and forgotten instinct of survival. I felt the adrenaline erupt from deep in my soul, or maybe it was something else welling up. My arm tingled for a second, and then heat and light erupted brilliantly in front of me. The world turned white and my faced burned searing hot. That’s when I blacked out.