Kittens

Editor’s Note: This post is dark and features animal abuse. I had trouble reading this. This is your CW.

My dad was really a messed up man. There’s a lot more reasons why than this story, but here’s one of the multitude of reasons why I now have complex PTSD.
I was in 1st grade. I was walking around outside and found a litter of kittens are best 2-3 weeks old. No mother around, so I grabbed them all up and took them to an area I used to play near my house. I knew my dad HATED cats. He said they would steal your soul and your breath when you sleep, so I knew not to tell anyone I had them.
About 2 days later it happened. He found them. He called me out there and he had paper grocery bags. He made me put the kittens in the bags one by one and close them shut.
Then he made me light the fire where we used to burn garbage on our land and forced me as I’m crying my eyes out to put them on the fire. Then he made me watch every bag burn as I was inconsolably bawling my eyes out.
I had managed to hide one kitten that had wandered away from the rest when this all happened.
I waited a while and tried to get her somewhere safe away from our land but her found her too. This time he had a plastic bag and he made me put her in it and tie it in a knot. We had this creek down a drop off in our backyard. He walked me down there and threatened me that there better not be anymore and forced me to throw her in and watch her after.
Now, and since, I stand up for any and all animals because I will be their voice. I know what it’s like to not have a voice. Though I know now, there was nothing I could’ve done in that time years ago, I will speak for them today and for the rest of my life to make up for it.

Sumbitted by Anon.

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