When we were done with classes earlier, Cody and I met in the student parking lot to talk about going for lunch.
There were these guys standing off to the side. One of them was holding a box, and the other two were looking in and talking rather loudly. "Man, that's a lot of snakes."
"Yeah. I can't keep them, though. We have seven at home already."
At this point, I guess one of them got an idea. "Hey, give them to us. We'll take care of it." Box-boy shrugs, hands Goon #1 the box and drives off.
I feel sick. Goon #2 was trying to kill a hamster last time I saw him, and now there are a bunch of baby snakes at his mercy. He has no mercy.
Goon #1 picks up a rock, and Goon #2 starts dropping the baby snakes on the ground one at a time. Goon #1 starts crushing them as fast as they hit the sidewalk.
Cody tells me to look away, but I can't. I feel like I'm going to cry. It's like watching an execution and having everything riding on your ability to yell out, "Stop!" but you can't find your voice. It's gone.
There weren't many left by the time I got up enough courage to run over and shove Goon #2 down on the concrete. The box goes flying, and the remainder of the snakes got away into the grass.
One of them, though.. I guess it didn't die when Goon #1 hit it the first time. It was kind of struggling to crawl away. Cody glared at Goon #1, who was looking for a new rock to hit it with, "Don't kill it."
And then I could speak. "Please.. Don't kill it."
But he did. I think that's the first time I've wanted to cry in front of others in quite some time.. Why are people like that? Why pick on animals? Are they afraid of their opponent fighting back?
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