Thursday, 13 January 2011
Have you ever murdered something with your car? Well, I was driving my car today, and a squirrel ran out into the road. I heard a resonant THUD as I continued on my way. Seeing as I had 2Pac blasting, I wasn't sure if I had killed it or not. I looked in my rearview and there was a dead squirrel in the road. I then entered the 7 stages of grief in approximately 1 minute of mental thought:
1) Shock and Denial: I was flabbergasted that I had killed an innocent animal. I actually believed that maybe the dead squirrel I saw was actually killed by someone else before me, and the one that ran in the road had escaped.
2) Pain and Guilt: I then began to feel immense pain for killing one of nature's most beloved children. I knew I had done it, and worried that other drivers would see the squirrel and know that I had killed it. I felt like a monster, why me?
3) Anger and Bargaining: WHY ME? If only I wasn't going so fast, if only 2Pac wasn't blasting, if only I swerved out of the way, Mr. Chestnuts (that’s what I named him) would have his life. It was 2Pac's fault! Not mine! If I never listen to 2Pac again, will you bring Mr. Chestnuts back to life?
4) Depression, Loneliness and Reflection: I began to feel cold, sitting in my car alone. I thought of Mr. Chestnut's family awaiting his return. I thought of what I had done to deserve this. I was in a maelstrom of sorrow, I should have been the one under the car, not Mr. Chestnuts. What kind of person listens to music and kills wildlife? That's how serial killers get their start. I wanted to call someone for support, but no one knew what it was like.
5) Upward Turn: I began to think of the glorious life of Mr. Chestnuts. He had a good one, and I began to place less blame on myself and my not-so-reckless driving. The sun began to shine just a little brighter.
6) Reconstruction: I planned for the future, and 2Pac was turned back to it's original volume. I took a deep breath.
7) Acceptance and Hope: I accepted the fact that I was a squirrel killer, but I knew it was only involuntary. I knew the future would be better, and I hoped Mr. Chestnut--wherever he is--forgives me.
Ever kill an animal with your car? Ever feel terrible about it the rest of the day?