She was craving for them again. She needed them to satiate her amped-up hormones. Her mother had stacked those gory books up in the cupboard, a place where her increased caloric body couldn't get hold of, out of valid fears. The doctor has strictly asked her to relinquish them. But those horror books were loaded with antioxidants. Unable to resist her tastebuds going haywire she climbed on a tool to fetch the books. Last time when she had read those dystopic fiction during her pregnancy, she suffered a miscarriage.

Like a little penguin elated with its small hunt she scuttled back into her bedroom and opened the bookmarked page. This time the story was about a woman gestating with a dead child.