Blank!

Your nine-month-old baby girl is innocent. You know babies take anything they lay their hands on, into their mouths, right’?

Your girl is sucking. As soon as she chokes, she is given some water and some stick sweet to lick, then she continues to suck.

She chokes again but this time, she begins to cough hard. She is given water. Her mouth is opened, about to resume sucking when you open the door.

First, your head goes blank. Your eyes are almost out of their sockets.

There he has been standing, penis-feeding your adorable daughter on a high table. Your 6 ft 5 husband…

Your heart races, your left fingers twitch, you ball your right fist…

His gaze meets yours. He scoffs and tucks his wet penis into his shorts.

You remember last night. You had refused to give him a blow job for the umpteenth time.

“If I don’t get it from you, I’d get it from another,” he had said.

You have anger issues. Your head bangs as your girl begins to cry and bring out semen from her mouth.

“Murder him! Murder him!” Your beast mode yells within.

“How could you?!” You roar as you rush forward.

He calculates so well, he knows you well so he catches you right in time and flings you to the bed.

Before your impatient and mad self could get up, he dumps an envelope on your chest.

“Biiiiitttttttcccchhhhhhh,” he says emphatically, walks out of the room and slams the door.

You sit up slowly, a little bit calm.

It is a DNA test result. Finally he knows your little princess isn’t his.

With you in your pocket is a pregnancy test result. You are meant to break the news to him that you are carrying “his second child” but again, the pregnancy isn’t his.

You are full of wrath because he has messed with your saintly child.

You fall on your back suddenly and burst into tears because you know your game is over. You can’t dupe your poor husband anymore all in the name of another man’s flesh and blood.

You are still battling with a mixture of emotions when you hear a bang. Your tears cleave to your nose bridge. Your heart stays on hold for few seconds. You sit up immediately.

No trace of your daughter, the high table is empty.

You hear a sudden sharp cry. It is your baby.

You burst into tears again when you remember that earlier that day, you had placed a cup on the floor, just beside the table, with a knife in it, its sharp pointed end, upward.

You probably have stabbed your baby.