[22] (Jonathan)

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Jonathan fell back into the corner with his hands sweating and Nancy still ringing in his ear, Nancy harmonizing with the beast in his belly, Nancy screaming like a rabbit full of birdshot. He pushed past her to listen to his own darting heartbeat instead, and hoped he might slow it down enough that he wouldn't have to notice when it stopped.

When he was a kid Jonathan thought death was just like going to sleep only it lasted forever, because that was what all the parents told their kids when their pets died. By the time he turned ten he had learned to keep an empty placeholder over the process of dying, which his father did not disturb when he put the rifle in his hands. Jonathan aimed because he was shown how, he fired because he was told to, and the sound the rabbit made turned his placeholder black.

Why is it screaming? Why's it screaming like that?

Because you shot it, buddy. Nice shot, too. He's already starting to quiet down. You did a good job.

No, I did it wrong, I did it wrong. I know I did it wrong! I made a mistake or this wouldn't be happening!

Woah kid, hold on. Get a hold of yourself. You didn't do anything wrong. It's just a distress call. It happens when you shoot them sometimes.

Then I shouldn't have shot him.

Shooting's a better way to go than most ― it's already over, see? He's dead.

He didn't have to die!

Everything has to die, Jonathan. Everything. You can't grow up until you understand that.

I do understand that. But he didn't have to die yet!

This one did. He died so you could learn something today. Why don't you show him some respect?

You could have just told me, Dad! I would have believed you, I trusted you! You didn't have to prove anything!

Okay, well, we'll eat it too. I'll show you how to skin it and we'll eat it so it doesn't go to waste.

I don't want to eat it! I want to go home!

Fine. I'll take you home. But can you do us both a favor? Don't tell your mother about this.

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