text: "No". Her first word was already one strike against her. The mother blurted out an unintelligible, "squaaapp!" Hearing this, the father rushes into the room and utters an inquisitive, "Bluagh??" He immediately begins writing on the chalkboard hanging from his neck like a large pendant. It read, "What is the matter?" The wife furiously scribbles, "She spoke. She said, no." It was a similar chalkboard to his hanging from her neck. She holds the chalkboard right in his face, as was fashionable at the time when you wanted to yell at someone. "No!" The child shouts. "No, no, no, noooooonooo." The parents let out incredible sobs consisting of , "bluptts", "fludds", plostttiots" and "clisssptooos". "How many is that?" The mother writes. His written reply was, "Four, five... I dont know. That last one didnt count." Feeling the attention being drawn from herself, the daughter lets loose a tirade of at least 35 "no's". She is not content and doesnt stop until both parents are in shock, just staring at her. The mother writes in very small letters, meant to be a whisper, "How did she learn to pronounce?" The father looks at her for a long time. He takes his chalkboard off of his neck and writes, "come into the other room so she cant hear me..." He puts his chalkboard on the floor and walks out of the room without it. It takes the mother some time to follow. "Why would he leave his chalkboard." She thought. "What did he mean by, so she cant hear me!" Horrified by what she feared was about to happen, she grabs his chalkboard and several of his scattered chalks and runs after him. Finding him sitting in front of the fire in his normal chair directly across from her's, where they used to sit together and write tiny blocks of text to eachother. Each one written so small that the other could not possibly read, but each one so full of love and lust that their mutual desire for togetherness was as obvious and powerul as that from two people so in love and foolish that they would speak their desires out loud. She holds his chalkboard out to him. He refuses with a gesture. She presses the chalkboard into his hands to get him to come to his sences, but he wont grab it no matter how hard she tries. He stands and steps back as she collapses on the floor in a heap in front of him. She cant look at him as he begins speaking. "He is killing himself", she screams in her head as she counts down his words. He began in spoken words; "I taught her how to pronounce." "Why would you do that. Why would you kill our child." She wrote. He speaks again. "I know that she is not my child." "I made a mistake", she writes. "When I was a boy, my grandfather spoke to me." He continued. Each word she heard drew him closer to death. As the total neared 95, she stopped him and wrote, "Dont do it. I am sorry." He paused for a moment and continued, "he told me that..." He was interrupted by her begging him to stop. For the first time in her 32 years, she spoke, "Take care of her, I know you love her." He turns away confused, only to hear the sound of his wife unlatching the third story window. There is no other sound to be heard but a distant thump as the father had already made his way back to the daughters room. He holds his wifes daughter close and makes cooing sounds to her as she continues to babble the word "no". 97... "No", 98.. "No", 99..."No". He couldnt watch what was coming next so he continues his story, "...