Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Squisher's Atonement

I have never committed vehicular homicide...until this past sunday.

I pulled into a parking spot at the apartment complex I was filming at in Novi. I was a little early, so I checked my facebook with my phone before getting out of the car.

Ten minutes later, I exit the vehicle only to see a pool of blood by my back tire. Behind that, a little turtle, no bigger than my hand.

"No no no!" I screamed.

I bent over and picked it up.

It screamed. I didn't know turtles could scream. But this one did. Its shell was cracked by its neck, and some organs were dangling out. I couldn't help him and I was devastated. I took him over to the grass and held his foot. I apologized profusely. I don't know why I had to park in that particular spot...there were spots everywhere. I chose that one! If I had parked elsewhere, I would have seen him and moved him to safety before this tragedy could occur.

I held his foot until I knew he was gone...I wanted to take his pain away. I wanted to save him...I could do nothing...I was helpless...and that is terrifying.

Then I had to go and film a comedy as if this turtle's life meant nothing.

I mean, for all I know, he could have grown up to be the Hitler of turtles and I saved that apartment complex pond from animal genocide the likes of which we never would have imagined...but I kinda doubt that.

Its hard to remain dead inside. But I have to in order to get through my shoot. I have to laugh. Then I have to drive home.

And now, everytime I get behind the wheel, I gasp as I remember that turtle and the way it screamed...it sounded like the Jurassic Park dinosaurs. Just very, very, tiny.

I can't bear having an innocent creature's death on my hands. But I didn't intend to kill him. Still, if I had hit a child, even without intending to hit it, I would probably go to jail.

This is why I wrote SQUISHER'S ATONEMENT. Because why do we feel animals are second class to humans? Why are their lives worth less than ours? I'm glad I am not going to jail, but I think my mind has put me in prison anyway.

I hear that scream as I drive. I gasp. I get all tingly around my shoulders and my ears start to ring...I feel like I might pass out. But I better not. Then I might kill some people if I pass out while driving.

I am sorry, turtle. You deserved better. I didn't mean to squish you. I hope you are slowly crawling through God's parking lot now without a worry in the world. I will see you in Heaven.

For me, Heaven will be me and all the animals I've ever loved, just cuddling and loving one another. Oh, my family will be there, too, I am sure...But nothing beats a good kiss from a puppy.

Turtles can't kiss. But I hope they can forgive...

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Back to the dark ages

I went to a party this weekend. Alone, because Jeff was filming in Port Huron and I really felt like being "social." Also, there were cupcakes promised.

I was having fun, chatting and all...this is all out of my comfort zone, because I am NOT a social person...even less so without the husband present. But I thought I was doing well.

I took a peek at the folks in the back yard. I saw a friend's husband had climbed the tree out back. I shouted that he looked like a Ren Fest actor up in the tree.
I decided to join the festivities in the back and suddenly, Treeman decides to throw a stick at me. I look up just in time to lift my hands to protect my face, but not fast enough to remember I had a cup of wine in my hands. I was covered in wine and humiliated. And no one had anything to say about the situation. Not an "are you okay?" or a "sorry about that."

I had a flashback to when I was in elementary school and I was playing with a friend who lived on my street. She had a neighbor that hated me for some inexplicable reason. This friend wanted to play too. So, we were playing in the neighbor's yard, when I realized I had to go to the bathroom. I was told that I wasn't allowed in the house, so I ran half a block home to go to the bathroom.

When I walked back, the neighbor kid's older brother said to me, "I wouldn't go back there if I were you. They're going to tell you to 'get, scat."
I had no idea what that meant, so, I kept walking. I turned into the driveway and a bunch of kids, including MY friend, were sitting in the garage, chanting "Get! Scat!" and throwing things at me. Basketballs, gardening tools, whatever they could reach...some even reached me.

As I ran home in tears, the brother shouted "I tried to warn you!"

I was feeling like these people wanted me to "Get! Scat!" at this party, too. I felt tears welling inside me. This wouldn't have happened if Jeff were here. They would have thought I was too cool to throw things at then. Now I look like a tool covered in wine and no one cares...I walked behind the garage to regain my composure. I decided to go inside with the smaller crowd and chat with them instead. I calmed down and talked myself into staying. And I am glad I did. I got to play Rock Band for the first time and stayed out later than I have for "fun" in years.

But I still wonder why I almost left. Just because a mob in the backyard lacked manners, didn't mean I needed to "get! scat!". Someone at the party was going to want my companionship and conversation skills. I just wish I could have brought that little girl with tears in her eyes to join the party, too. She was a nice girl and a lot of people missed out on her friendship...I'm glad I know who she is...