It was all not an accident. No, No, it was no accident, only a simple, misunderstanding. I am a nice guy; despite what those say about me. They know nothing! Nothing I say! I remember a time, oh and a time it was. She was with me; I with her. Only the heavens above sang with hark and the demons below mocked with envy. She was to bear a child. Oh what a beautiful child it was to be! Now how could I be mad? No. No! Not when she squeezed my hand and our child was a bore. A beautiful child! How dare they mock me? A loving father; I never strayed. Maybe a few drinks, but it was never enough. So how -may I ask- am I mad? Was it not normal to beat the child your loving wife bore during her times of disobedience? Is it a crime to teach the kid you so dearly love correctly. I am a loving father. Her only father. Sometimes it hits me. Hits me so deep that the cut lingers and grows until the blood soaks through my cloak; caking the walls a stained red. The walls. Oh, the walls; how they played the scene like a broken recorded. Over and over they played! The people, only a few, dressed head to feet in that sicking black. They made me sick. Sicker than ever as they carry the wife I so dearly loved; Ripped her away. All under a white sheet. The scream. How did the neighbors hear. I was so careful. I was so careful. The neighbors should not have heard anything but they did! Oh they did. It was because of Them, that the angels swept my beauty away! They took her away; but was it? No. If my memory suffices me; Erica was there too. Erica. My child. My loving child.
How may you mock me? Call me mad? I only did what had to be done. I only took the steps laid out in front of me like cobblestones. My mind st-stuttered; I did st-stutter more and more. I-It knocked in my head the crys! Oh the cries of her, her scream banged against me day after wretched day it came! Every glare of every eye leaked misery. They knew! All those strangers;  
they knew! They knew and no one stopped me. For they knew my future. So how then am I mad?
When I reached my lovers mothers house; that tiny house next to the lake- for I knew where to go. But I waited. Oh I waited. I waited making no sounds; as the ants were more noticed than that of me. For the day passed away and the light was nothing more than a dim lantern; I moved. Slowly; ever so slowly I crunched through the dead leaves that littered the forest floor. But I was cautious. So cautious in fact that only a Madman would ever dare to cross my path. In nothing short of a few hours I was by the window. The cracked window stood no higher than my waist. It was easy enough to wipe the frost from the warm window. I glared inside- ever so slightly- and saw Erica. Her beautiful face so innocent, too innocent. “Beware my love,” Something whispered-the wind. It must be the wind. I stared. The darkness of my faint shadow covered her face, though she took no notice. She slept. “Beware.” The wind whispered to me, shock my bones. It was time. With steadiness-oh the grace- I cracked the window. It rasped and groan. My dear young child only twitched at the sound. My heart slowed. Sl-slowly; it only took a push. The wind howled; I stepped in. She slept. Murderer. The wind banged on the window; Hush. I stepped, the floor groaned; she shuffled ever so slightly. I knew she heard. Her pulse raced, but she did not dare open her eyes. I did not move. Murderer. She did it. My darling daughter. How I wished she lived. Am I mad? How then, am I a monster? ‘Les I let a demon walk the earth. ‘Les I cease the screams that bang in my head over and over! Over! One swift move and she goes limp. The bed creaked-slightly- soaking the warm blood of my darling daughter. Am I crazy? Must I not do what is best for her?
Quickly, and quietly, I drag the body of my darling to the window. I must work fast. The wind screeched and howled; Darling. The wind. It was just the wind. How light she was, yes, as like as a feather plucked clean from a chicken ready for seasoning. It was no trouble -the blood bareilly dripped from the corpse -ha ha. The woods were dark, but no darkness could blind me of my hole; one I spent tedious and rigorous hours on. One the same exact size and shape of her, six feet into the soil; how then could you call me mad? Would a Madman place a dead rabbit two feet above her? Would someone with a sour mind think of that to distract the hounds? My pieces were at rest must I go on. The wind knocked and howled, shaking the very tree that lays next to my darling child. Darling, It whispers, Beware. The throbbing in my head intensifies, but I leave the forest in time for the cursed sun to cut through the darkness.
I look back- just a glance- into the woods. My mind at ease, body relaxed. Although; the glance had a strange ting to it. Like something was.. Off about it. One last glance I find myself stealing; this one longer. I stair into the deep woods; a faint throbbing in my head. Nothing, not a bird out of place. I shake it off-it’s nothing, only the wind. Although, as I’m walking steadily away, stealthily I walk, the crunching of the leaves were not my own. The footsteps in the woods were not my own.