Stuff Gets Tough-

DISCLAIMER: The following is not a satire or a criticism on actual divorce. It is just what it is, my own personal little rant about a video game.

So, I think it was four days ago that it happened. I was just walking home from a quest when I saw her, Lolita the Whore, walking down that cobblestone street out of Bowerstone Market.

Obviously I tried to stop her, but she just kept on walking, not even stopping for a moment to glance in my direction. A few steps behind her trod our daughter, Rachel, who barely reached my waist and who couldn't have been more than six years old.

They were leaving me.

I tried to stand in her way, gave her jewels and necklaces (which she accepted), but to no avail. She thanked me for the presents, but then called back for her daughter, our daughter, to follow her. They were nearing closer and closer to the gate.

As I frantically tried to grab her attention, force her back to our home, all of the times we spent together flashed before my eyes.

I had met her in Bloodstone, on the waterfront, and, as her name suggests, she was a prostitute. She was smitten by my charm, and I brought her back to Bowerstone and married her; I set our marital home up in the market square, next to the book store.

Ever so slowly I replaced the homely, spartan pieces of furniture we had lying around for those fit for royalty. Our house was small, yet lovely- much like she was.

Fragments of her old life would crop up, every so often. One night while we made love she whispered in my ear, "I've never felt such respect for someone who's done that to me before." But that was an old life, that was all in the past.

After one such night I can remember her telling me she was pregant, and that she would be expecting soon. Some time after I found a crib in the top floor, where a gurgling, energetic bundle of happiness stared up at me.

Rachel took after me in many ways- she was extremely mischevious, for one thing. In spite of her tendencies to disobey and to fight the other children I raised her as well as I could. I gave her toys when I thought she deserved them, and withheld them when she didn't.

I lavished both of them with gifts, items that I had come across during my frequent adventures. They were always waiting for me when I stepped into the square, eager and excited to see me again.

To Lolita I gave diamonds, rubies, necklaces; to Rachel toy guns and teddy bears.

My wife often had gifts for me when I returned, and would always tell me how lucky they were to have me, as a husband, as a father.

They are only a few feet away from the road to Old Bowerstone and I remember the cave.

Hobbes, dirty, ugly creatures, had once captured my dear Rachel. She had run off to go on adventures just as her father did, and they had snatched her up and taken her away. I was on another quest when I heard what had happened, and dropped everything and ran.

I was worried sick, my heart hammering in my chest. What had they done to her? Were they going to turn her into one of them? The Hobbes were swept away by my fury. My rage was fueled by fear for my daughter's life, and they scattered like birds. The bullets from my rifle and the mystic fires from my palms slew all who stood in my way.

I found her kneeling in a cage, unafraid, and happy to see her father. I led her up a mine shaft out to where her mother was waiting for her, tears of worry in her eyes. My wife thanked me profusely, and I told her that everything was going to be alright.

Now they're gone. Walking out on that cobblestone road to somewhere, anywhere, else. I don't understand what I did wrong.

Later I receive a note telling me that the Child Protection Agency has taken my Rachel away due to the death of her mother.

I don't understand why they're gone.