I’m thirteen, standing in a hidden sanctuary of trees just yards away from a public pond. Caressed in my palms is a quivering bird, my thumbs restricting it from any escape. I am alone here and at the moment I’m not sure what my intentions really are, I just feel I am moving on instinct. The black creature is clearly terrified, shaking vigorously and nipping at my hand but I know I didn’t intend on letting it go. I nervously glance around for a last time before grasping the bird’s reptilian like leg with my thumb and center of my forefinger. It fluttered vigorously, attempting to yank and tear from my grasp. A small crack and the horrified bird had broken its own leg. It squawked and screamed so I clumsily grabbed at its beak to attempt to keep it quiet. Holding it by its head I grabbed at its other leg and let the thing stupidly attempt escape again. Another quiet snap.
I wanted pinch both wings, let it flex and writh and try to escape while i knew very well it never could. I wanted to watch it kill itself .
