Today was the day I ended it. I turned off the lighter as I lit the final candle.

"Daddy? Is it time?"

My precious little girl. It really took me all these years to build up the courage to finish this. I look back to her.

"Yes sweetie. Sit down, it's time to blow out your candles."

She sits. I don't sing to her, I can't bring myself to. She blows out the candles.

"Make a wish honey."

"Daddy I wish that it was..."

I shot her in the back of the head before she could even finish the sentence. Her cake was squashed and painted red as her head fell down on top of it.

It was finally over.

I spent the rest of the night disposing of the body, burying it in my backyard. I was free.

I collapsed into bed, so tired from everything. I fell into sleep, only to immediately awaken to my alarm at 6 o'clock AM.

"Daddy! Daddy! Wake up! It's my birthday!"

I screamed.

For the 15,870th time I'd woken up on July 23rd, my daughter's birthday.

Why did she have to wish it was her birthday every day?