When I was younger around 14, my parents got us a cat. He was the tiniest cutest little kitten so innocent and new to the world.
And one day, I assume because I was having a horrible day and I had lost my temper and in, what I have fully concluded was a pure act of evil, I put the cat into a pillow case and started banging him off the side of the couch and the cushions so much so to the point that when I was finished he had blood on his nose.
This has eaten away slowly at my soul for far too long.
I hate myself for doing it, I know I’m not a bad person, I know I’m not inherently evil, but every time I think about it I become filled with a self-hatred and self loathing that have me actually contemplating taking my own life to eradicate the evil that I have buried deep inside.
A similar incident happened about 8 years ago with my current cat. And I can’t help but wonder if I’m legitimately a p************ and if I even deserve to continue on…..