The Warlock at Ridge Valley by Mike Hibbert

Author:Mike Hibbert [Hibbert, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

12

“And that,” said Alan, “is a great place to stop.”

“No, you can’t do that,” shrieked Lucy, punching him playfully on the arm. “You can’t!”

“I think you’ll find I can,” he retorted.

I sat back in my chair. What a session! I’d enjoyed that immensely. There was everything I needed in a game: we’d fought monsters, explored, and role-played our characters in a harsh and dangerous world.

“Simon, that singing was amazing,” I said. “I had no idea you could sing! Do you make the songs up?”

“Thanks, mate. No, I write them in advance, I like to be fully immersed in my games,” he laughed.

I turned to Alan, who was smiling to himself. “What did you think of the bats then, Sebastian?” he asked. “Oh, sorry, I mean Colin... ”

We both laughed.

“It was brilliant, such a good idea,” I replied. “ It made me realise just how much I do the overthinking thing.”

We talked a while longer, and as we did I remembered what Alan had said earlier in the week. It was vital that I loved myself, that I was gentle with myself. So by giving me an in-game way of recognising that, Alan had helped me deal with both of those points. Because if I could see when I was starting to spiral downwards, then I could do something about it, and by recognising those episodes I could give myself a considerable leg-up towards... managing them. I’d nearly said ‘fixing them’, but that was the point. I couldn’t ‘fix’ them, but I could learn to manage them and make it so that I wasn’t a slave to the thoughts. Like the Tribe of Three, this would be a long journey, but with friends by my side I felt good about being able to handle it.

We said our goodbyes to each other and, like last week, I walked with Simon to the bus stop. We excitedly chattered about the game and the fight with the orcs, that moment when our characters knew that they worked well together as a team. Once the bus arrived we went our separate ways, Simon getting on and me starting the walk back home. It seemed like Mum had turned a bit of a corner too. The last few days had been essentially drama-free at home, and her desire to blot things out had decreased. I’d noticed on a couple of nights that she had gone to the kitchen alone, which was often a sign that some booze was about to be opened. But then she’d come back with nothing more than cups of tea for us.

I’d talked to her on Tuesday night, after meeting up with Alan. I hadn’t meant to, but it had just come out. I’d worked things out in my head by talking them through, so telling Mum about our conversation had been mainly for my benefit. But, if doing so had helped Mum somehow, I would claim that as a win. I’d talked a bit about the negative thoughts I often had, and she understood, but she wasn’t the talker that Dad had been.

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