The baby is on it’s way. My wife is on her back, waiting to push. Will it be like me? Please, don’t let it be like me. Never let it see what I’ve seen. Let it be like it’s mother. I wouldn’t live with myself if it became a monster like me. I might do what my father did if he turns out like me. I couldn’t live with myself if I messed up my baby boy. His head looks like a bubble. His shoulders like little alien arms. He’s perfect. He couldn’t possibly turn out like me. I won’t allow it. He will never, ever, be as messed up as me. I will protect him and his mother with my life. Nothing will ever harm either of them. He will never be born in blood like me. He will never see what I’ve seen, never do what I’ve done. He can’t, he won’t. I will hurt
