When I met my wife, Jenny, it was love at first sight. I had never, ever seen somebody so beautiful in all my life. We talked throughout the night, me ignoring the woman I had been courting. We were...destined, it seemed, if I dared to say such a thing.

Follow up:

Her curls were the color of a rich red wine, dangling in a pale porcelain face, covering bright green eyes. She was dressed primly, perfectly, very well-spoken and incredibly intelligent. She could play piano and violin, wrote poetry and novels and she was just...perfect.

We married. She looked beautiful. Our life was happy, our house was wonderful, and almost every day we would sit on the porch and watch the sun set. At the end of every day, when we went to bed, Jenny would suggest that the lives we were living were quite empty. I got the hint that she wanted a family, and so we started to try to have a child.

It took about a year, and we had a little boy, Gregory. People were so excited when they heard of the pregnancy. With such a beautiful mother and handsome father, the baby would be such a beautiful baby!

Oh, how wrong they were. How very wrong indeed.

Gregory was ugly. There was something about him. If he had a physical or mental handicap, I would have loved him, and accepted it. He didn't have a hunchback or anything and he didn't have a thing wrong with him mentally. Gregory was just...ugly. Hideous.

When we went out, people would stare and whisper. We finally just snapped and didn't go out with him. We said he was sick. We homeschooled him. He said he wanted friends. We gave him toys and tried to be his friends.

Around the time of his tenth birthday, he begged and pleaded to go out for a walk to the mountains for his present. He destroyed everything he owned, or tried to. He would slap, hit, bite, scream, everything. He was turning into a monster. Jenny suggested giving him his wish. Such a caring mother, she is. So thoughtful.

So, I took him to the very top of the mountains. A walk. I was winded, but somehow, even though he never really got exercise, Gregory was ready for anything. He skipped over rocks, darted up the hills, skidded around curves and all the while I was puffing like a steam engine behind him. He laughed and smiled, picking flowers to take back home to his mother.

When I reached the very top with him, I got an idea. To rid me of this...creature of a son forever. He was looking over the railing that they had placed and I grabbed him and pitched him over the railing. To get rid of him once and for all.

My return home was filled with tears, oh how I bawled about how Gregory hadn't listened and how he was on the railing. How he fell off from losing his balance. He had gotten up before me and was on the railing when I got there, saying “Watch, Daddy!” I ran up to him. I was too late. The funeral was sombre, sad, tearful. Jenny was torn up. Nobody suspected.

About five years later, we had another boy. It frightened Jenny that his birthday was the same as Gregory's, saying it was a bad sign. I just nodded politely and forgot about it. We named him Richard, and he was beautiful. The child we should have had. Everyone loved Richard. When we took him out people would practically flock to awe at him.

Richard was a sweetheart. Kind, respectful, intelligent, quiet, popular. Everything you would want or need in a child. He loved the mountains and had always wanted to hike up the largest one without any breaks or only going halfway up. So, Jenny and I took him willingly.

He practically buzzed up the mountain and Jenny and I ran to keep up. When we rested at the top, he looked around. Jenny and I were setting up a picnic, as you do, and he just looked around. I walked up to him, set my arm around my son and beamed. We were at the railing, overlooking the mountain. Richard leaned into my hug and we just stared out. When I felt his head rustle to look up at me I turned my gaze downwards.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” I asked him. Silence.

He just looked at the surroundings again. I forgot about the silence. I hugged him tighter and went to go and help Jenny again. Richard grabbed my hand.

His grip burnt. Tight and red hot. I forced back a cry and turned around. He just smiled.

"“Are you going to throw me over the rail this time too, Daddy?”