One day I had caught a very pretty monarch butterfly in my net and was struggling to transfer it into my but bottle. It fluttered out of the net and I scrambled to capture it in my bottle but it then fluttered just a couple feet away. This happened a couple times and finally in frustration I stood up and stomped my foot. At the precise moment my foot was coming back down the dumb butterfly fluttered under my foot! I was injured to the core at having harmed one of the prettiest things I'd ever seen. I crouched down to inspect the damage done. Unfortunately the poor little thing was in dire circumstances and wasn't likely to pull through. I felt unimaginable guilt. After mourning a few minutes I got up to move on to other adventures. I quickly noticed that up the hill from me the neighbor kids were watching. Did they know? Was my dirty, guilty secret exposed?! In dread I pretended that nothing had happened, gathered my bug catching supplies and headed the opposite direction. I worked my way around and came up the hill from the side. From there I saw the children had gone down to where the corpse of my slain butterfly lay. They looked up the hill at me throwing accusatory glares and unfriendly vibes. I thought for sure I'd be an outcast the rest of my days. For a few days I felt somewhat despised, even ostracized! Eventually the kids forgot my crime and our friendships were reestablished but even to this day I feel slightly like a murderer.
Granted it can seem a little amusing now, but mainly I just recall the sinking, sickening dread that I had destroyed my little friend who was completely innocent! Funny that killing ants, ugly beetles and spiders on a regular basis never bothered me.





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