Absinthe
The Freeman
- Joined
- Jun 21, 2004
- Messages
- 14,037
- Reaction score
- 30
So I made my first confirmed kill with my car.
Was driving at around midnight, getting back from watching my uncle's dog, when a small animal ran in front of me. I don't know what prompts animals to run in front of a pair of headlights going at 55 MPH, but it happened. I tried to swerve around it, but it ran right in front of my left tire and the loud, audible thuds accompanied the car going over it's body.
So I stopped and turned around to see what the **** I hit. I guess it was a possum or something. I had thought it was dead, but no. It was still there, slowly wriggling around in the center of the road when I passed it. I then turned around a second time and this time stopped right next to it. There it was, with its back snapped in two, arching it's head up at the sky, covered in blood, gritting its teeth, straining to get air, with the lights from the car reflecting from it's eyes while it stared at me.
So what did I do? I drove off because I was too much of a pussy to run it over again and put the ****ing thing out of its misery. It's probably dead by now, if not from its own injuries then from another car that finished the deed on purpose or by accident. Man, that must be a shitty way to go out, with the last few minutes of your life spent in wretching agony, unable to do jack shit and left to die in the middle of the road in pitch black.
Hate myself right now.
Was driving at around midnight, getting back from watching my uncle's dog, when a small animal ran in front of me. I don't know what prompts animals to run in front of a pair of headlights going at 55 MPH, but it happened. I tried to swerve around it, but it ran right in front of my left tire and the loud, audible thuds accompanied the car going over it's body.
So I stopped and turned around to see what the **** I hit. I guess it was a possum or something. I had thought it was dead, but no. It was still there, slowly wriggling around in the center of the road when I passed it. I then turned around a second time and this time stopped right next to it. There it was, with its back snapped in two, arching it's head up at the sky, covered in blood, gritting its teeth, straining to get air, with the lights from the car reflecting from it's eyes while it stared at me.
So what did I do? I drove off because I was too much of a pussy to run it over again and put the ****ing thing out of its misery. It's probably dead by now, if not from its own injuries then from another car that finished the deed on purpose or by accident. Man, that must be a shitty way to go out, with the last few minutes of your life spent in wretching agony, unable to do jack shit and left to die in the middle of the road in pitch black.
Hate myself right now.