We were playing outside, my sister and I, and my mother calls at us to come inside. She hollers at us, and we run inside through the broken mesh. She hoists me up on her sturdy greasy palms, and I look through the top window, and I see a delicate baby owl. He was quivering and shaking, and probably escaped from its mother. He had little cute spasms. What a rascal I thought. From what Jill told me, I heard that when they escape, they die in days.

 

I crept outside. My sister Jill touches the owl with her bare hands, pulling and contorting its ear. She made it hiss like a snake. 

 

“Jill, you fool. Why would you do that? Leave it alone. I called you outside to appreciate nature, not to butcher it.”

 

Jill replied: “Well it’s not like it has a chance to live. All baby animals die when they don’t have a mother with them.”

 

She then added, “It’s not like it has a chance to go to heaven anyway.”

 

Her mother responds “Watch your mouth young girl!”

 

But Jill didn’t listen. She picked up the owl and played with it like a toy. She hopped up and down with it, like a rabbit, an animal herself.

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“Jill, I will only tell you once. Put that damn animal down!”

 

“Shut up!” “You can’t tell me what to do!” “It’s going to die anyways, and I might as well enjoy myself with it.”

 

I actually thought my sister was retarded.

 

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” I questioned.

 

When she punched me, I winced. I cried in a wail that only humans do. Everything was going wrong now. My mom was shouting at Jill, and the owl was flying in circles above us.

 

“Look!” yelled Jill.

 

The owl skitters around chaotically, picks itself up, and flew away. 

 

“Look what you did Jill!” I yelled.

Jill straightens herself up, puts her cap back on, and leaves.

 

My mom said: “What a damn shame.”