Sound Minded

You cannot escape from me; you cannot escape from my kung-fu like grip.You can try, you can try to scream and howl like a coyote.However, you know as well as I it will not do any good.This struggle, this fight will not do you any good.Just be still, just do not move, just stop moving and it will be less horrible for you and me.

This was my thought three days seven hours and thirty-five, thirty-six, seven, eight seconds ago. That is what I was saying; I was saying it in my head to my baby, my baby. My baby I killed, I strangled. I killed my baby, and I do not care. I am sitting here on the edge of my bed staring at the clock hanging on the wall; it is hanging oddly high on the wall. I wonder why I hung that clock so high, my arms are limp, my mouth is open and my breath is soft.

I do not feel bad about what I did. I know it was wrong, obviously, and I know my baby did not deserve to be strangled. Regardless, I just do not care. I do not want to kill myself, for some reason I think my life is more important, is better than my baby's was. I am tired, and I think want to watch TV.

How horrible does this make me? My skin is nice and pleasant, my hair is thick and silky, and my clothes are clean, but my innards are nasty, like a monster. A big growling disgusting monster, my heart is like that of a monster. I always knew I was this. I could tell, deep down in the lower abdomen region I could feel it. I could feel this monster. It was just buried under ground. As a child I dug a hole dumped it in and covered it up.

I kept it under ground when I got married, I kept it hidden when I got pregnant, and it came roaring out when my baby cried. Should I wait for my husband to come home from Salt Lake, and let him see? Or should I go bury my baby in the ground the way I tried to bury this monster. My husband will still know he will know my baby is gone, he will know that our baby is gone. He will know that I killed his baby.