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I Don't Know What to Do

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Black bedroom
I don't know what to do. Every night, around midnight, I wake to find my wife missing from our bed. She has always had a wandering problem. She enjoyed leaving the house every night after I had fallen asleep to meet up with a friend. Like every night, I arose from the bed, rubbing my eyes as I placed my feet on the cold, hardwood floors. I peered out of the window at the moon, which hung delicately over the family cemetery in our backyard.

I called out her name, pacing cautiously down our narrow hallway. In the other room, I could hear Rose crying ever so quietly. I suppose my yelling awoke her from her dreams. So, I ended the search for my wife, and instead headed towards the nursery. Standing in her crib, Rose reached out for me impatiently. I picked her up, humming her favorite tune as she drifted back off to sleep one eye at a time. I stared down at her beautiful pale skin and blonde hair before kissing her wet cheeks.

As I placed her back into her crib, a crashing sound alarmed me from downstairs. Hurriedly, I ran towards the sound, ignoring my once cautious demeanor. And, once I made it down the stairs, I spotted my wife standing in front of the patio door. She was silent. I approached her slowly as I questioned where she had been. Laughter escaped her.

The atmosphere surrounding us was thick and an all too familiar stench filled the air. I reached out to touch her shoulder, but her laughter grew to an unbearable level. I covered my ears, screaming for her to stop but she persisted. Finally, I grabbed her shoulders in an attempt to quiet her. Only...her shoulders were as stiff as a board. I tried to caress her hair only to receive a ball of it entangled in my fingers. I backed away from her, my mind racing with confusion.

Instinctively, I rushed upstairs, bursting into Rose's room. Only... she wasn't there. I called out her name, knowing she would not answer back. Then, I recognized the sound of running water coming from our bathroom. I walked towards the door left barely open. I creaked open the door and stared intently upon the small body... bloated and afloat. Her blonde hair danced in the water much like it belonged there, and her beautiful face tucked beneath it so stunningly. The sight made my knees buckle. I fell to the floor and screamed at the top of my lungs for what seemed like decades.

But, with every second I gazed upon her corpse, I slowly began to remember. I remembered why she was dead. I didn't know what to do. Her mother, that whore, she made me do it. I had to teach her. I had to show her I loved her more than anything. She didn't love me anymore. She loved him. I had to show her. I had to. So, I took away something she loved. She had to feel how I felt when I gazed down at those papers. But, even that wasn't enough for her. She tried to run out of the patio door. But I didn't let her. I couldn't let her.

Written by GreyOwl
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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