Godly Anger {Gaby}

When I had woken up that morning, I was sweating profusely. My heart was pounding and my veins were pumping with adrenaline. Most people would consider the dream I’d just had that night to be a nightmare. Oddly enough, I enjoy the dreams that most people consider ‘bad’, ‘terrifying’ or ‘disturbing’. I suppose that’s because I’m such a ‘bad’, ‘terrifying’ and ‘disturbing’ individual myself. People have told me many, many times that I’m not quite right in the head. My most recent encounter with someone that clearly thought there was something wrong with me, other than my family, was a guy I’d met in the woods after I’d killed a raccoon. That was a day where I’d been in such a rage that I wanted to kill a human, but knew it was illegal, and therefore chose an animal instead. I don’t normally care as much about the lives of animals.

There is one animal in particular, however, that I do care about, and it’s likely that I care about it more than most of my family members. Although, I’ve been told that I shouldn’t say that to anyone, as it could possibly come off as rude, and that many people would likely think I was heartless after hearing such a thing come out of my mouth. I wouldn’t say I’m heartless. At least, not completely. I may be close to it, but I still care about some things. As I said, there is one animal that I do care about. This animal in particular is a small, tailless squirrel that, for some reason, I found under my pillow one morning. I thought it was dead when I found it and had no idea how it had gotten there. At the time, when I thought it was dead, my main assumption was that perhaps I’d killed it and brought it home, but didn’t remember due to being extremely tired or something like that.

The thing was, the squirrel didn’t look like it was dead because of me. I would have killed an animal with an axe or a knife, not my bare hands. There would have been a lot more blood had it been my fault. What I discovered while pondering this, though, was that the small, tailless squirrel was actually still alive. It moved as if it were in pain, and for once in my life, there was a living creature that I felt sympathy for. I felt really bad for the poor creature, and actually nursed it back to health, which my siblings found odd, given my usually rather violent nature. I ended up calling the poor squirrel George, and have kept him as a pet ever since.

When I woke up from my heart-pounding dream that morning, however, George wasn’t asleep at my feet like he was every single morning. That was when the adrenaline from my dream turned into nervousness from the reality I was facing. He was gone, and I didn’t know where he was. Immediately, I jumped up. Lane and I were the only ones home, as the others, surprisingly, were all out and about that day. It was very rare for that many of us to be out of the house, since there were over a dozen kids in our family. I swear to Ripred, our parents should have stopped after me. There’s almost never any place to sleep but the floor. I’m lucky when I get the couch, and even luckier if I get one of the beds.

Getting up off of the floor, I started to look around the room for George in a bit of a panic. He was nowhere to be found. When I couldn’t find him, I decided that I needed to actually consult one of my little siblings. I usually hated kids. There were far too many of them in my house. Anyone under the age of about fifteen or sixteen tended to irritate me, to be entirely honest. When I located Lane, I went up to her, arms crossed.

”What did you do with George and why are you messing with me like this?” I said to her sternly. I wanted answers right then and there.

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