My First Murder

I remember it like it was yesterday. I don't know what that says about my memory, but anyway....

I was in kindergarten. It was a drizzly, cloudy day.

We were outside for recess and lined up to come inside. As the line in front of me filed though the door, I stepped forward and felt a distinct "squish" underfoot.

I turned back. I expected it to be a wet mitten or something. But alas, it was a snake.

And right in the middle of it's body there was an indent where I had trampled it. Like when a snake eats a bird and it has that random bulge in the middle of it's body. But in reverse.

Being a very sensitive child, I felt unbelievably guilty and cried in front of the whole class.

My best friend was kind of grossed out that I had touched a snake, so she was no support. Another girl was like, "Psshhht, it's just a stupid snake. It's not a big deal." And some stone-hearted kid was like, "Ooooh! You're soooo awesome! You SLAYED a SNAKE!!!!!"

My teacher tried to make me feel better by assuring me that it was probably already sick or dead before I stepped on it. But I thought that even a sick snake deserved a better end than being squished.

To make matters worse, no one cleaned it up for a couple of days. It just laid there decomposing, and every recess I was faced with the dreadful consequences of my carelessness.