I swung peacefully on the swingset, rocking back and forth, my little legs following the smooth motion of the swing.
And then something caught my eye. A frog. I had to catch it. I dug my feet into the grainy sand and stopped the swing, carefully inching close to the frog. I was right behind it, mere feet away...and that's when it hopped off, sensing my presence.
I ran. Ran after it as fast as my little toddler legs would take me, running like a kidnapper whose victim had just escaped. I lunged at it, trapping it under my body. I sat up, and scooped it into my hands before it could get away again. The slimy little thing wriggled in my grasp. Oh, how I loved to see them struggle! It amused me. I giggled childishly, standing and made my way to the back porch, just beside the door. I pinned the frog down with one of my hands, feeling around for one of the sticks I always kept handy.
My fingers ran over the coarse surface of the wooden stick, taking it in my hand and holding it over the frog's chest.
I couldn't help myself any longer. I dug the edge into it's flesh, a smirk growing on my face as it further attempted to struggle. I then watched as it grew limp. I turned it over onto its stomach, poking at the eyes for a moment. Then I popped them like balloons.
I would cut it up further, but Momma keeps the knives locked up now.
I'm Zachary. And ever since I was a little kid, I loved to kill.
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Dissection of the feeling called <3
HorrorMy fingers ran over the coarse surface of the wooden stick, taking it in my hand and holding it over the frog's chest. I couldn't help myself any longer. I dug the edge into it's flesh, a smirk growing on my face as it further attempted to struggle...