(Depiction of a slightly psychotic character)
Every human walks around with a certain kind of sadness. They may not wear it on their sleeves, but it's there if you look deep.
My kind of sadness may not be understood by most as it could be someone else's dream.
Ever since I was a kid, I just despised pregnant women, I hated other kids and babies around me. I felt like I wanted to gut them alive or leave them in toilet water to decompose.
They were always so loud and annoying.
Some would throw up on their mother or slap their father with their tiny chubby hands. And they walked around as if they could burn this whole world down, and people would still find them cute if they were even able to walk.
All of these disadvantages and much more without even mentioning their poop smell or the fact that someone has to change their diaper.
With all of these things to take into consideration, I have ended up embodying the very thing I hate most.
A mother.
Not just any mother, but one that experiences the worst kind of torture on this planet earth, even though I have promised myself before not to end up here.
I am in labour.
I have doctors surrounding every inch of the bed I am resting on. Nurses are running around the place like maniacs.
The person I hate most is standing right beside me, the very same person I am supposed to call my husband.
I have never loathed someone so much.
"You can do this, I am here for you, I will always support you." He held my hands tightly as if it's locking me in my place to remind me that I can't go anywhere else now.
He was against abortion, and my parents couldn't agree more with his opinion, I couldn't do anything but watch as this creature grew inside me, and I also watched as I lost my job, my dreams and any further hope of a nice future.
All I could be now was a mom to something I wanted to kill. And a housewife to someone I truly hate.
These thoughts didn't stop the tormenting pain.
"You can push a little harder," I heard my husband whisper near my ear as I screamed.
I have never had such a strong death wish in my life.
It's like he knows that he just took everything from me, and not only that, but he threw me in a cage and locked it, and placed the keys at the furthest place on another planet.
This cage was made of screams, cries, and...a soft skin?
"A baby girl," the nurse claimed as she handed the thing to me.
"What do you want to name her?" she asked me softly, as if speaking loudly would hurt my feelings, as if I am the most fragile being.
I could feel them cutting the umbilical cord from the other end of the bed.
I could still feel the unbearable pain all over my body, as if I had just run a marathon, if not much worse.
"I don't want to name it." I said as I started taking my breath again slowly.
"Layla, we will name her Layla." my husband said with a wide smile on his face.
I guess it was his turn to hold the thing since the nurse took it from my hand and placed it in his.
She was scared I would do something crazy to it.
If anything, I want nothing to do with it, but that is not a choice anymore.
Unless...
And they wonder why some mothers go crazy and end up killing their baby.
Well, they could stop wondering and just ask me.
But they wouldn't understand.
Because to them, I would just be a baby killer.
Especially if they saw me three days after giving birth to the baby.
I was holding it over a bathtub, and I just...
I left it to drown so peacefully and gracefully, almost so beautifully that I wanted to wake it up and do it over and over again.
It didn't make much noise, I wouldn't have been caught if I wasn't laughing so hard that my facial muscles began to hurt.
Which brought attention to my husband.
