You wanted my Isaac.

How could you? You gave him to me. He changed my life. Suddenly I had something to look forward to. To nurture and to see grow up. To reap joy from. Even in the pain. And just when I thought he was mine, you wanted him back.

Why? Why must I prove that I love you more than all this? Why must I give him back? What about what I want? But gave back I did. I raised the knife and plunged it in.

Isaac is now dead. And I’m still looking for that blasted ram.