*SCARY STORIES FROM CREEPYPASTA*

One afternoon, a couple was traveling on by car when at a far distance they saw a woman in the middle of the road, waving frantically.

The wife told her husband to keep on driving because it might be too dangerous, but the husband decided to pass by slowly so he wouldn't stay with the doubt in his mind of what might have happened and the chances of anyone being hurt. As they got closer, they noticed a woman with cuts and bruises on her face as well as her arms. They then decided to stop and see if they could be of any help.

The cut and bruised woman was begging for help telling them that she had been in a car accident and that her husband and son, a newborn baby, were still in the car which was deep in a ditch. She told them that her husband was already dead but her baby seemed to still be alive.

The husband that was traveling decided to get down and try to rescue the baby and he asked the hurt woman to stay with his wife inside their car. When he got down he noticed two people in the front seats of the car but he didn't pay any importance to it and took out the baby quickly then got up to take the baby to it's mother. When he got up, he didn't see the mother anywhere so he asked his wife where she had gone. She told him that the woman had followed him back to the crashed car.

When the husband went back to look for her, he noticed that clearly the couple in the front seats were dead, one of whom unmistakably was the woman who had flagged them down.

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My wife is going to kill herself in 5 to 7 business days.

I'd found the order for a jug of Xanaphril while clearing the internet search history of porn and was contemplating it now. I'd known my wife Cindy had been unhappy but I guess it hadn't registered just how much yet. Was this a cry for help? Should I say something or just let it fade into the background noise like all of her other passive complaints?

"Are you ever coming to bed?" Her voice bridges on a shout, causing me to start and close the browser window from habit. A shout. Her deafness is still in full swing, I think to myself.

Cindy had been diagnosed with a rare form of Ménière's disease shortly after we'd married two years back. What had started as uneasy moments of vertigo and mild hearing loss in her right ear had quickly erupted into extreme ranges of deafness that would come and go randomly; sometimes affecting her for weeks at a time. Worse still were her 'falling attacks'. I'll never forget the first time she'd experienced one.

We'd been waiting in line for hours outside the Aladdin theater, shivering and keeping close to ward off the first snowflakes of winter. I remember she'd been talking on her cell phone when just like that she collapsed in the street as if she'd tripped - but we hadn't been moving. It scared the hell out of me; I thought she'd suffered an aneurism or stroke or even been shot. Understandably, these periods of outrageous vertigo and difficulty hearing the words from her own mouth were deeply frustrating for her and I'd tried my best to be supportive. But it was taking its toll.

I turn to look at her sullen face. I feel guilty to admit it, but I can hardly stand seeing her when she's like this. A wise man once said that sadness is a disease. I'd go one step further and say that it's of the infectious variety. After years of putting up with her, I could go for a handful of those pills myself.

"Yea, just closing down now." I shut our laptop and slip into bed next to her. She immediately turns on her side facing away from me. Guess no sex tonight either? Ha, and here I had my hopes up, I think bitterly. Just as well. Hadn't I read somewhere that if a man goes without long enough, he'll start having crazy kink-fest dreams? I could go for some of that. Bring on the Asian Schoolgirl...minus the tentacles.