What I did wasn’t personal. I’m not a killer at heart. When there were just a few, I never let them bother me, but when they became so numerous that I saw them everywhere, I knew it was time to kill them off. I didn’t want to do it face-to-face, so I spread poison around the water from which they drank. I sat silently and watched one cautiously approach and drink. Then his legs began to twitch and he couldn’t catch his breath. Watching him suffer so much brought remorse. Death was near but the culpability was mine. I had spread the poison that was painfully taking life away.
What was I to do? I couldn’t live with the likes of this one. I saw the question in his eyes. “Why are you killing me?” he asked.
Remorse for what I had done spread and I swore I’d find another way. But the very same night I had to kill again and the dying eyes burnt guilt into my brain. After that, I caught one more that I held underwater until he drowned. There is no other way, I told myself to ease the murderer’s guilt sitting heavily on my mind.
The law said I could kill any who invaded, but my conscience wouldn’t accept the fact that I wantonly killed any I saw. If only there was another way to keep those illegal immigrants away. I posted signs warning there was poison, but I knew they couldn’t read. I left the lights on because I knew they liked to travel in the dark. Nothing stops them from coming.
It must be hunger that drove them, I surmised. But that was no excuse for them to come onto my property. Not only that, I didn’t like having them around. I wondered if I should hire someone to come and kill them all at once. If I did that, I wouldn’t be bothered for a while. But I worried that those hired killers would get me too with their methods of execution.
I’d do it myself. I put on what I called my, “killing clothes.” Old stuff I could burn when I finished killing. I got my weapon and a flashlight and turned out the lights. I heard their footsteps. They were near. I tensed up, got ready to blast them, and flipped on the flashlight.
Their eyes shone in the beam, and I couldn’t do it. I shut the light off and let them feast. I wondered if I was a defective human. We all have the urge to kill, but my urge seemed to be going away with every life I took. The law and everybody else said it was okay, but something inside me said it was wrong to take any life.
But I couldn’t stand them and sincerely wanted them dead. I looked for a compromise. Maybe I could sell them to a company that has a use for them. I called around and every company I talked to said they had them coming out of the woodwork and wouldn’t ever buy a single one.
Maybe they could be used for meat, dog food, or even hotdogs. I inquired at a rendering plant and they laughed in my face. I was going to have to kill them myself. That very night I dressed in my special clothes, got my weapon of choice and a flashlight. I waited in the dark for the longest time. I broke out in a sweat. Maybe they weren’t going to show up, I half hoped. After a long while, I heard footsteps and knew they were here. I flicked on the light and their eyes glowed with surprise.
I went on the attack and ran to where they stood frozen in fear and I didn’t hesitate to push down the nozzle on my can of RAID.