The Killer in a Youngling

(Not owned by me — off of google)

Dinah Goulding was a young girl when she encountered the furry squirrel in the woods, she was all but five and a half years old, and she still remembered how she unconsciously touched its course toffee fur all the way up to its fading grey tail. She recalled the tautness of its skin when she curiously pressed down a little bit too hard. She could almost taste the smell it exuded when she realized she accidentally killed it. Animal urine was not pleasant, the furry thing was in fathomless fear, and it died with that bone crushing feeling. One could tell that the unpleasant smell in which slowly stroked the air was bottomless fear. Only it was in the form of squirrel urine. Dinah felt nothing for the creature as its head lulled backward floppily, and its body twisted repulsively. Anyone who took sight of it would recoil and run away, but Dinah felt numb and did not know what to make of it. After all she was only five and a half years old. But that little half held a tiny ounce of knowing for the foreseeable future. She remembered she went back to visit the squirrel hoping to feel something, anything but happy, as her days went on without a thought of the creature up until she visited it. It eventually decomposed and by the end of her curiosity and hope, she understood that she in fact did not care for its death or that she was the cause of it. That crisp mundane Autumn Dinah Goulding turned six years old, and she came to terms with the well known notion that she was not normal.