I see a boy, angered at dogs barking and nearly fighting, a little kitten only a few weeks old by his feet, he lifts his foot and stomps to get them to stop. A heart rendingly pained squeal is heard, the bo feels something tiny under his foot. He moves and sees the kitten, neck broke cleanly and the kitten strunggling in pain, spinal cord severed as it gasps. He run s to the neighbors, they tell him what he already knows: the cute orange ball of fluff is beyond saving and will die. The boy carries the kitten back home, petting and soothing it as best he can. At home he wraps the kitten in a washcloth and stays by it, crying and sobbing at this horrible thing he did at 12 years old. He leaves to go to the bathroom...when he comes back, the kitten is dead. He buries the kitten under the white lilac in his yard by hand, tearing at roots to dig a proper grave, crying. Parents come home and he confesses to killing this kitten of a litter of five, parents say it was an accident and he wil be more careful next time. Now he always checks for little innocence 14 years later. Keyboards stain the keyboard as he types this, the boy inside crying with pain never healed. THE BOY MURDERER OF KITTENS IS ME.
Posted on: Mon, 27 Jan 2014 07:00:30 +0000
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