I have been coughing up blood and can barely breathe, but I know from the times before it will heal. My father is taking me out today to hunt and I am so looking forward to it. My brother and I are locked in our rooms and my Mother is on the phone acting as the perfect person and Mother to all her friends; just a normal day in Hell.
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I’m back from hunting. It was a cat this time, no dogs to be found; my Father’s choice of victims. It was horrible and sad. The animal was defenseless and scared. I know the feeling. I wondered if I have that same look, the same eyes. My Father killed it and then skinned it. He scared the animal for a long time and was excited when it peed. I started to cry and he punched me in the stomach and told me that this is pleasure; this is the best of life.
As I watched him kill this poor animal, it came to me; the plan, the desire, the will to kill my parents. I realized that the animal was better than them. That his life was worth more, that monsters should die and the good should prevail. I had a need, a want to see my Mother and Father on this slab, pleading with their eyes for mercy, freedom. They would never get it, just like the cat.
