Mary Smith 

It had been a year since my beautiful, little baby boy Edward had been born into this world, and it was safe to say, that raising a child was filled with many ups and downs. Edward, who I nicknamed Ed, had been born on the 14th of June 10,010 A.L.T.G, on a sunny day at Hope sky hospital. He had been born with his father's ocean blue, intelligent eyes and, to my surprise, my wheat blonde hair. Though his was straight like his fathers, unlike my naturally wavy hair. 

It had been a stressful day. My Labor had lasted nearly over a day, and the childbirth didn’t feel like it took any sooner. I was in half the mind to just ask Jon to cut me open and take the child from my stomach. After all, with his skills and abilities… there wouldn’t even be a scar left in place. However, I persevered and delivered my son.  

However, the nightmare of a day didn’t end, as Ed had been born seemingly still born, no signs of life whatsoever in his little body. It was as if he was an ultra-realistic doll. It was by far the most heart wrenching moment of our lives to say the least. I felt the world crashing down on me, my heart breaking. It felt as if the world was ending… and then. He breathed. His eyes opened. And his heart started to beat. That had been the best moment of my life. A true miracle that I thanked the Griffins for every single day. 

I had heard and read many things about childbirth and raising a child. Some said it was the easiest thing ever, whilst others described it as the hardest challenge of their entire lives. And it was safe to say, they were both right. 

Some days it was hard and stressful, leaving me drained and withered, whilst others were filled with immense joy and immense happiness that I had never felt before in my life. Like when he had first said mommy or when he had taken his first steps. Those days would be days I’d never forget for the rest of my life and over shone any and all of the hardships. Childbirth truly was a blessing. 

However, there was one, small problem that I had... it was strange and probably just paranoia. But for some reason, I did not get the feeling that Ed particularly loved us. If that made any sense. It was hard to describe, after all, a parent loving their child and a child loving their parents wasn’t something you actively did. It was something that just... happened. At least, that was the case with most people. It was a mutual, unconditional love that a baby and their parents should share. It should come naturally. And yet, for some reason, I did not feel like Ed loved us as much as we loved him. 

I had brought this up to John a few months back. But he simply stated that I was being ‘paranoid’ and ‘of course he loved us.’ And of course, I hoped that was the case. But... to me, it seemed as if Ed was trying to keep his distance away from us as much as humanly possible. At least for a baby that was dependent on his parents. 

Of course, I wasn’t trying to say that he was actively doing this. After all, he was a baby... but still. I couldn’t help but think that the parent and child connection that should be there was somewhat lacking. For example, Ed hated being picked up and held by either me or Jon, always sporting a face of disinterest or even annoyance when we did. Not to mention, as soon as he learnt to crawl, he would always seem to move as far away from us as we’d let him get away with. 

I had spoken to doctors and friends about this, and they had told me there was ‘nothing for me to worry about’ and that ‘all children were different’ and ‘maybe he’s just a shy kid.’ However, deep down in my heart. I just knew it wasn’t that. 

Despite all of that however, it didn’t make me love my child any less. In fact, it was the opposite. It made me even more determined to fill whatever disconnect there was between us. No matter what. After all, he was my little boy. 

Jon Smith 

They said that life would change dramatically once having a child... but that really wasn’t the case... well, not for me anyway. Of course, life sure was different. Having someone that you had to look after and care for, and someone that you cared for a loved unconditionally was a strange but wonderful feeling. However, unlike Mary, who got to spend every waking hour with little Edward. My life had hardly changed. I was still working my usual job and doing the exact same thing I always did. The only difference was that going home had become something that I desired even more than before he was born. 

Sometimes I wish that I could take some time away from work and stay at home with the two of them. However, someone had to earn a living and provide for the family, and I wasn’t about to separate a mother from her newly born baby. Especially since she seemed to be going through some paranoia that Edward didn’t love her. Right now, she needed to be with him in order to get over her little complex. 

Speaking of our son, Edward, he was an awfully attentive and smart child. Those intelligent eyes of his, that people said were the spitting image of mine, weren’t just for show. Others may just see me in them and chock it up to genetics… but I could tell. My son was smart. 

Of course, this wasn’t just the drunken babble of a father who believed his son was the smartest baby in the world, I did have evidence that led me to believe that our son was rather bright for his young age.  

Exhibit one. That boy learned to crawl and walk awfully quick for his age. It was as if he knew exactly the fundamentals in how to achieve both of them and that the only issue was getting used to his rather top heavy form. I had done a lot of research before our son was born, and I had read that many babies don’t begin crawling until they were about seven to ten months old and don’t begin walking until about ten to eighteen months old. Yet Edward, he was crawling from the time be turned five months old and not long after that, he began to walk at seven months old. 

Of course, I know there are exceptions to the rules, after all, those statistics were based on the average. So, it was clear to see that Edward was exhibiting above average behaviour. That wasn’t my only piece of evidence, however. 

Exhibit two. Mary had insisted on reading to Edward every night, at minimum one book. Doing so would apparently help his brain and speech develop a lot quicker. Of course, I had read that somewhere too and so I was very keen to do so. However, it didn’t take long before I notice Edwards eyes when reading those picture books to him. You’d expect for his eyes to be glued to the cute and wonderful images within the book, hell, even as an adult myself I couldn’t help but be drawn to them. And yet, Edward’s eyes hardly ever looked at the pictures. Instead, he seemed to listen intently to our words. His eyes staring at the words on the page. Almost as if he was trying to match the words we were saying to the letters on the page. 

Of course, I didn’t think he was actually reading the book, and I don’t believe that he fully understands what we’re saying either…. After all, he was only a baby. though sometimes I do catch him staring intently as we speak. But still. If that wasn’t a sign for intelligence, then nothing was. 

Well, I don’t know. Maybe every parent feels like this. This was a brand-new experience and feeling for me. I guess I was just one of those proud dads who saw the genius in everything my son did. A stark difference compared to my old man… but maybe that’s why I am how I am.  

Either way. Whether our son is the next genius of the century or not. Whether he becomes the next monarch of the Britannic Empire or becomes a teacher or a doctor like me. Hell, even if he ends up as a boring office man. I will always be proud of and love my son.  

And I’ll protect him and his future. No matter what ghosts may appear to ruin this new life of ours.