I found something...
and I don't know what to do.
Before I share this, I just want anyone that reads this to know that,
I love my wife. I. LOVE, HER, so, so, so much.
We've... been having troubles for the past few years.
She's desperately been wanting children, and
I do as well... I suppose.
We went to clinics and doctors and therapists
And she just cried and moaned as I held her because I knew this must be a hard time for her.
I stroked her hair and kissed her, and promised her we would find a way.
But then I found something...
I made her a small shed in our garden—sort of a studio, I guess—for her paintings. She loves to paint.
I usually don't like to disturb her, though. I mean, her studio is her place. You know, just like my "man cave" is mine.
I don't know why I just got, a bit curious.
She was away for the morning, driving to the gallery a few hours away, so I
just kind of let myself in.
God! I-I love my wife, but those paintings...
They were... creepy.
That's the only word...
Each one was of a family; a father, a mother...
and a baby...
Then I realized that each one was us,
huddled together, smiling.
But, the resemblance wasn't what scared me.
It was the baby itself.
On each canvas the baby was a deep red, aggressively painted against the serene family behind it.
It's still noticeably a baby,
so tiny...
I didn't stop looking around, though.
I opened the door in the studio to the tiny broom cupboard sized room that usually held the paints and brushes.
I opened it and...
I honestly could hardly comprehend what I was seeing...
I don't think I ever will.
And I don't know what to do...
I feel like I don't know her anymore.
I feel like I married a stranger.
And I'm scared...
I'm so fucking scared...
I love my wife...
But those tiny bodies...
Those crushed fetuses,
smeared with that deep crimson blood!
used as...
as a fucking tool.
There were so, so many twisted little babies...
all rotting in that cupboard.
[End]