Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25170312-20150614165502

''Here's a first draft of a short pasta. It's kind of like a long micropasta. Have at it! XD''

It was the middle of the night as she got up to use the bathroom. Her husband had been fast asleep, but when she returned he was standing by the open window, holding their daughter in a precarious fashion.

"Honey... what are you doing?" she asked, but there was no answer. He took a small step towards the window.

"I- I'm sorry... I... I have to," he said as clearly as he could despite shaking and crying; a frustrated child in his hands.

"Honey... just please put her back in her crib," the woman pleaded calmly as she crept nearer to her husband.

"I... I can't... I have to... I have to..." The man took a few more reluctant steps, imagining the horror of their child plummeting sixteen stories. The woman came closer and reached out for the baby.

"Let me take her, honey. You're just having a bad dream," she said, and gently removed the child from her husband's trembling hands.

"Yes... a dream... it's all been a bad dream," he uttered, sounding like he almost believed it. The woman wasted no time. She grabbed the phone and locked herself in the bathroom with the baby, quickly dialing 911.

"Hello?! There's something wrong with my husband! He's deranged, or delerious! I think he wants to hurt our baby! Please hurry! It's 526 Evermont, apartment 1608! Thank you, please hurry!"

Her husband gradually came to his senses, realizing he had not completed his task, and rushed to the bathroom door. He desperately slammed his fists and wildly kicked his feet. He started ramming into it with his shoulder, over and over again while his wife and child screamed. Eventually, all his energy was spent and he was forced to stop.

"You don't understand..." he said as he began to sob, "I have to do it... They won't go away if I don't... they won't stop looking at me... with those... those eyes..." The child continued to cry, but the woman stayed silent. "You don't understand... You just don't understand..."

"But I do understand," she said, "You're the one who doesn't understand. Do you really think they'll go away if you kill our baby? Do you really think they won't come back again and ask you to do something else? I bet you they will. Trust me. I know..."

The bathroom door opened and the woman lunged out towards her husband, brandishing a knife. She buried it deep in his throat, making sure to slice the jugular. As his body was painted red from the neck down, she leaned in to whisper one last regret.

"...I know all too well." 