The word murder is related, in old English, to the French word mordre (bite) in reference to the heavy compensation one must pay for causing an unjust death. A person who commits murder is called a murderer.
By that definition I am a murderer.... I have to admit that at my short age of 17 I have been teh direct responsible for at lest 2 dead... maybe even more if we count all my birthday parties, but I should not be held account for those though, because I did not actually committed the crime, but this 2 death are the only one that I am a direct responsible and I can recall every single detail...
First of all as we all know there are different degrees
First Degree Murder: An intentional killing by means of poison.
That pretty much define my first crime.. I am not quite sure if I was 3 or 4, but I do remember my victim very well, she was white and had a brown freckle, she was very beautiful and tiny, I believe she was about 3 months old... How sad to remember that. She was so full of life and liked to run around and always made people happy. One day as I was in my mother's kitchen without supervision so, I should blame someone else for what happend... but, then again, that will be cowardly. Anyway, I was there at the kitchen and my poor victim was there with me, i could see she was hungry so me and my good heart decided to feed her... I got a chair opened the fridge and got a whole package of hot dogs, the one that are huge. 12 hot dogs in the package. My little victim sat there and I sat next to her, and little by little and hot dog by hot dog i kept feeding her. And just as she kept eating i could see her belly growing and growing just like if she had a balloon inside. It was getting hard and big. I thought it was funny at that time and I could remember that while she was eating the hot dogs I was rubbing her belly. Just when I thought she couldn't eat more she kept eating! She was eating very slow at the end she kept moving her chin and eating and eating... And I kept feeding her... so sad :(
Just when I gave her the last piece of hot dog then my brother and his friends came into the kitchen. They were horrified by the size of her belly. My brother was very worry and call her doctor and then to my parents. Everyone was so worry about her and I couldn't understand why if she was looking so funny why people were so worry. The things is by the time her doctor came it was too late. She had already passed away. Every body was giving me a nasty look, and just then I understood that I had done something really bad. My brother saw me crying and i remember him putting aside his disappointment and hugging me, telling me it was ok and that was his fault for leaving me alone with her... He was so nice to me. When everybody came to the house and found out I was scare but nobody did say anything to me... we took my victim to the backyard and buried her there. Till today she is resting in peace... Her name is there in a little cross.. Pituka, that was her name because we found her behind a store with that name when she was newborn puppy... I will never forget Pituka nor how she die.
My next victim was a little lobster.. I was around 7-9 Can't really remember how old I was. We went to a restaurant were they served 'fresh sea food'. Let me get this straight, I always thought that "fresh sea food" mean that the sea food have never visit the freezer... Little I know what they really mean by "fresh sea food".
We sat at the table, my parents my brother and some of my parents friends and their kids... The chef came with a waitress and they were pulling a big fish tank full of lobsters. I must admit I was disgusted by them because putting aside their flavor their look is horrible, they don't call them the cockroach of the sea for nothing. But there it was, everyone choosing one lobster, I saw that everyone was picking the big ones and all I could think of was of a little lobster that was there. On my mind, and everyone who knows me knows that I have a big imagination and when you are looking at the sky full of clouds I am looking at the same sky full of funny figures, anyway, all I could think it was that little lobster probably would stay there alone and she seems scare to me. So I picked the little lobster. My dad asked me why the small one because if Ilove lobster so much I should have picked a bigger one. I said that the small one was the perfect one for me. Oh, boy.... while we were waiting for the food I remember thinking what I am going to do with that lobster? shall I free her into the ocean? shall i just keep her as a pet? But how could I keep her if I did not even like how they look like let alone about feeding her and taking care of her. But still,I was sure that I did not wanted to leave her there with the bigger lobster walking all over her my heart could not just let her there even if that means I will have to take extra time to take care of her... 20 minutes later our food arrive, boy, if i was hungry! Everyone started to eat the salad and when they brought the lobsters we all dig into our plates. As a good Manchester girl I learned the art of eat a good lobster without getting messy. So I enjoyed my lobster and after i eat my mashed glazed carrots it was time for a good nice desert... a yummy pineapple cheese cake. My dad ask for the check and paid...everyone was getting up their sit and I did too. Suddenly I remember my lobster and I stand next to the waitress and asked her to bring my lobster. She did not understand what I was trying to tell her so my parents came and ask me what was going on... I should have forgot about the lobster but I did not. My dad said 'sweety you just eat the lobster" I was like " yes I know, but I mean I want the little one I choose so I can take her home,I do not want her to stay there with those bigs ones... she will be dead by tomorrow if they keep crawling all over her" I saw everyones faces... My mom bend over a little and was at my eyes high... she said " honey, the little lobster that you choose, was theone they cook for you and you just eat it" At that moment I almost stop breathing I had an asthma attack and could not believe what I have done! I started to cry so bad, they give me my inhalator and put me to sleep. The next day I try my best to not think about it . It took me few years before I could eat lobsters again. Now I grow up and when I think of little lobster with no name I don't feel so bad anymore... but one thing is sure I have never ever eat 'fresh sea food" again.... nor will do it in the future.
