The Crying Baby

The baby was crying. Oh God, she's alone. Her mother ran from the slithery bathroom to the dimly lit room. She felt strangely lightheaded. No wonder. She had been deeply distressed. 

Tick-tock! 

The radium dial of wall clock showed 2:35 am. Her husband left for an official tour yesterday and just 3 hours ago, he had called: 'It's over. We can't live together. It's suffocating.' 

'Suffocating? What do you mean?'

He sighed heavily. 'I'm in love with someone else.'

End of the conversation.

Just like that? Feeling terribly helpless, she was still trying to digest the shocking fact of her life. 

Her 5 months old daughter was wailing throwing her chubby legs and arms feverishly.

As she hastily approached the cradle bed, the baby stopped crying. Suddenly she realized something. The drizzling sound confirmed that she had left the tap on. As she swiftly moved towards the bathroom, the baby again started crying. 

'I'll just quickly turn off the...' 

She froze just in front of the bathroom door. Bewildered, trying to wrap her head around. She turned to look at the crying baby, sudden tears gleaming in her eyes, and then she turned towards the bathroom to find her own body, lying on the bathroom floor. A pool of blood floating around her head.

This post is part of a blogging challege. I am taking my blog to next level with BlogChatter's #MyFriendAlexa

It Rained That Night