Hegarty's Whore

chapter 8 - Riyaziyyat

Mr Hegarty paced anxiously outside of the hospital room, waiting for news of m/t. She had gone into labour around lunch time on the 13th of May. Now at midnight, she was still in labour.
Colin Hegarty could her her screams of pain. It made him laugh as it reminded him of the kids they had in their basement and tortured with maths questions.
Those children had been released into the wild the week before.
"Shes had the baby." A nurse came out of the room and beckoned him in.
"Its a boy." M/T said. "What do we call it?"
A faint bell rung in the back of Colin's head. "Riy... Riyaziyyat." He said confidently.
The nurses looked at eachother, slightly confused. M/T put the baby down and went over to colin.
"Hold my ass cheeks." She whispered in his ear. "Hold them gently like you hold your calculator when you're drunk on monday morning."
She giggled as he slid his large hands around her backside.
"Label me like one of your parallel lines baby." She bit his ear.
"Let's go home babe." He said.
She let go and picked the baby up.
"Aight bye." They marched out of the hospital and drove home.

"They were a bit odd..." the doctor said to his nurses as they cleared up.
"I think she said 'label me like one of your parallel lines.'" A nurse said, feeling slightly disturbed.
"D'you think we should notify social services?" The doctor said again.
"I mean with a kid called 'Riyaziyyat' what wont they do."
The doctor nodded his head and went to the reception desk.

Meanwhile, m/t had put the baby in a Tesco's bag for life with blankets on the floor.
The parents had both gone upstairs, where mr hegarty was pumping his seed into m/t once again.
She was stark naked on their bed, with her perky breasts pressing against his flabby chest.
Hes dark orbs stared into her e/c orbs as he pushed in and out of her.
Hearing a knock on the door, colin yelled at them to 'piss off I'm busy'.
The police walked in on this mathematical atrocity, stumbling back slightly in shock.
"What did I say?" Colin screamed, throwing his a level further mathematics for exam board edexcel book at them. "Piss off I'm busy." He screamed.
A tall woman from social services ran in behind the police searching for the source of crying.
She found poor Riyaziyyat screaming on the floor, shaking his tiny fists at the roof of the house, as though asking why he was born to these fowl creatures of satan we call maths teachers.
The lady picked him up along with his birth certificate, which had been hastily thrown on the floor beside him.
"Well, Riyaziyyat will not do for a poor baby like you." She pulled the pre prepared baby formula out of her pouch and fed it to the poor child.
"How about 'Riyaz' and then 'Rio' for short." She kissed his head and took the now calm baby away from the house, along with a small picture of his parents at a maths convention for when he was older.
Little Riyaz would never see his parents again. Not that he wanted to, they would have left him to starve in favour of maths and sex.
He had grown to feel sorry for them, poor people, enslaved by education and doomed to torture his friends.
But he understood why they did it. He understood why it had to happen to them.
He understood why they were now dead.