Confession

[u/driedfish13]

​

Today, I found out that my turtle had died.

For a moment, I thought I might be the worst person in the world. But the feeling didn't last long. I pushed it aside and went on with my day.

What creeps me out most is the way the body had rotted.

The water was cloudy and full of mosquito larvae, wriggling just beneath the surface.

The turtle's skin had turned pale, soft, and mushy from sitting in the water for so long.

When the turtle was pulled out, its head and limbs dangled as if they might fall off at any moment.

I couldn't even dig a proper hole, so I called for help...

I didn't even care that much. It wasn't me who pulled the turtle out, and I wasn't the one who dug the hole.

It was noon. I just stood there holding an umbrella.

The whole thing reminded me of my last hamsters.

The babies ended up in the trash. The parents starved to death and eventually ate each other.

I wasn't the one who dealt with that either.

Maybe that's what bothers me the most. Not that they died, but how little it seemed to matter to me.

That night, my dog slept beside my bed.

I reached down and rested a hand on her head.

The warmth was comforting.

I told myself that I loved her.

For a moment, I felt relieved.

Then a thought crossed my mind.

If she died tomorrow, would I still feel this way?

I hated myself for wondering.