He wasn’t trying to kill her, when it happened. When it happened, it was mere silence as he watched his fingers around her throat, gripping tighter; seeing her small face turn blue. But he didn’t mean to. He had been depressed, hadn’t slept for days, frantically trying to write anything, anything at all. He struggled with the bills and his last book hadn’t sold enough to buy a few months worth of diapers. He was finally getting somewhere, finally found the perfect words… the perfect story…. And then that crying… that god damned crying. It was 3 AM and the fucking baby was bawling down the hallway. He couldn’t stand this crying. It drove him absolutely insane! He ignored her, trying to keep his mind focus. He typed the words slowly, saying them out loud as he watched them appear on the screen. “Tony… knew… what… to do… then…but…” The baby’s crying became shrieks and he could not concentrate, could not control his frustration. “God dammit!!!” he yelled as he shot up from the computer desk. His chair fell backwards from the force and smacked against the floor. He charged into the baby’s room, yelling as he grabbed her by the shoulders and violently shook her against the crib. “GOD DAMMIT CAN’T YOU JUST FUCKING SHUT UP FOR ONE GOD DAMN MINUTE?!! YOU LITTLE FUCKING…” But it got silent then. The sound of her cries faded out and he couldn’t hear anything as he watched his fingers wrap around the infants neck. He could only see the twisted look on her red face as she gasped desperately for air. He squeezed tighter and tighter… And then something broke inside his head as she collapsed under his fingertips, when he realized what he’d done. But he hadn’t meant to.