Monday, March 8th, 2004

     I am panicking right now. Henry is not well. He’s been crying all night and won’t sleep. It’s been like this for two nights. At first, I didn’t know what was going on and took him to his pediatrician, Dr. Gordon. She assured me he probably has the flu and will be fine as long as I give him fluids before prescribing something for his fever. But he wouldn’t sleep again last night. That was when I recognized the symptoms. I know this illness. It’s from back home.

     We called it waking fever, and it usually struck children around Henry’s age. Once someone was affected, they wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. In about a week, the afflicted would die from the fever and exhaustion. Only a handful of children would contract it back home, mainly because parents would make their children drink tea from an herb that was plentiful back home every night for about a year. That handful of children who got sick were allergic to the herb and therefore couldn’t take it. Parents of children with waking fever could always come to someone like Rumpelstiltskin or my mother for a magical cure. Naturally, the price would be allegiance or something of great value like that.

     It then occurred to me that the makings for the cure for waking fever were part of the five gifts in my safe haven! I was so relieved that I could make the potion and my son would be cured in a matter of minutes. I called Kathryn over to watch Henry. I lied and said I was going to Mr. Clark’s to pick up a prescription.

     But I don’t have it! I searched and searched, but it’s gone! The kit couldn’t have been stolen; I’ve always been very careful to make certain I’ve never been followed to my safe haven. No one else knows what lies beneath my father’s tomb, so either I’ve miscounted what I have… or I used it. I’ve thought about when I could have possibly used it, but nothing comes to mind. And I’m certain there were five gifts. I sat on a couch and counted to myself:

     One, Daniel’s coin.

     Two, my keys to let me in anywhere in Storybrooke.

     Three, the kit to make the stasis curse I placed on Kurt when Owen left.

     I should have two more pieces of magic left, but the only thing left is the kit I was going to use to give the Savior a cursed persona if she ever came to Storybrooke.

     There is only one reason I can’t remember what happened to that set of potions: I used them to make a forgetting charm for myself. It uses the same ingredients found in that set. I’ve never had a desire to reread what I wrote in 2001, and flipping back in my diary to find those pages blank confirms my fears. Clearly, the price of casting that charm is the inability to save my son.

     I came home even more upset than when I left. Kathryn tried to calm me down and said the medicine used to bring Henry’s fever down worked a little bit. She told me she’d watch him so I could sleep, but I can’t. I can hear my son upset because he can’t sleep. I need to take him back to the hospital. Maybe they’ll know what to do once I tell them what it is?