It was Christmas morning. The little town of Herbertville was sleeping, except for a little boy, age 10, named Jason. He was ready for his parents to drag themselves out of bed and come down stairs. While he waited, he played some Christmas tunes and looked at the pretty presents, with their bows and ribbons and variety of colors.
It was 7 o’clock and he couldn’t wait any longer! He ran up the stairs and barged into his parents’ bedroom announcing, “It’s Christmas! Wake up, Mom! Wake up, Dad! Come down stairs….hurry!”
The two parents looked at each other and his father smiled. His mother only rolled her eyes. “We’re coming, we’re coming. Be patient, boy.”
Jason ran out of the room, down the stairs, and sat quietly before the giant, sparkling tree. Meanwhile, his parents Jack and Jill were progressing towards the bedroom door and then finally to the stairs. “Can’t you guys get down here any faster?”
After approximately fifty minutes of opening presents, Jason came down to the last one. Jack had hidden it so it could be the finale of all. But at the sight of the box, Jill glared at Jack and said, “Jack! I said not to buy that!”
Hearing this, Jason exclaimed,” Give it here, Dad! Come on, don’t torture me!”
Jack gave his son the box and watched with a smile as Jason opened it with excitement.
“A gun! You bought me a gun! Thanks Dad! You’re the greatest!” exclaimed Jason.
“You’re welcome, Jas. Now you get on out there and shoot them pop cans you pile up everyday out back,” said Jack.
Jason grabbed his gun and ran out the back door. He set it on the ground and picked up the bucket of empty pop cans. He lined seven in a row on top of the old, brown fence that stood between the house and his father’s bird hunting zone. He aims and fires seven times, hitting four cans. H’m, not too bad, he thinks to himself.
Over the next several months, Jason continues to shoot at his empty pop cans. He was very accurate and after a while, he could shoot twenty cans in a row without missing one.
Many months had passed since his father had bought Jason the gun. It was the last day of school, the sixth of June. He walked home, but more slowly than usual. It was peculiar because every other child was running home and jumping for joy that summer vacation had finally come. Jason was thinking about what he could shoot instead of the empty pop cans. Jack, his father, was a hunter and Jason hoped that when he asked to shoot something else (as he planned) that his father would tell him to try shooting an animal. Jason was unsure about what he would say.
“Hullo Jas, how was the last day of school?” said his father.
“Oh, it was good, I guess,” replied Jason.
“Well, I was thinking since you’re eleven now….that you ought to be comin’ along with me huntin.’”
“Really? You want me to come and hunt with you?” asked Jason.
“Sure I do, Jason, besides you been shootin’ at them pop cans for too long and I noticed that you’ve got yourself a nice aim,” replied his father.
Jason was very excited that his father wanted him to hunt with him. He also felt that he needed a little bit of practice before he went. Jason sat on his red race car bed, looking out the window, thinking about what he could practice on. Suddenly a brilliant thought came to his mind…squirrels! Jason smiled a devilish smile and grabbed his gun. It was still light out, probably at least two hours left ‘til the sun goes down he thought to himself.
Once outside, Jason looked for one of the little, furry creatures. Then he spotted one. It scurried up the trunk of one of the many giant trees in the yard. Jason knelt down and cocked his gun, waiting for the squirrel to come scurrying back down the huge tree. Sure enough after less than five minutes, the little, furry squirrel came down the tree. BAM! Jason’s gun went off and the squirrel froze for a moment then dropped down to the ground, dead.
“Yes! I got it!” exclaimed Jason, as his teeth showed as he smiled devilishly. He ran over to the tree and stared at his victim.
“Dead as a doorknob,” he said to himself, “Wow, this is great! My first shot and I got that S.O.B. Ha! And right in the head too!”
Over the next two hours, Jason shot and killed eight more squirrels. Each time, he picked up his victims and put them in a large cardboard box. He planned on skinning them and making a coat out of the furs and then could strut around in it and show off his great hunting skills.
When the sun went down, Jason walked casually to the cardboard box and hauled it into the storage shed. He picked up his gun and went inside the house. His mother, Jill, had some pork and beans waiting for him. Frankly, Jason did not notice and he continued on to his bedroom, shut the door, gently placed his gun in its case, and hopped onto his bed. His lights were out, and his mother didn’t even bother to object that he did not eat his dinner.
Whenever it was not deer, bear, or duck season, Jason aimed his aggression on the squirrels. His father did not oppose this, nor did his mother. She had gotten used to the fact that the guys in her life were going to kill animals whether she liked it or not.
Jason continued for months and months shooting the squirrels, not for practice anymore though. Instead, he killed them for fun. He liked to wait for them and see them freeze for that moment, and finally drop dead onto the ground. Each day, he kept count of how many he had killed that day and wrote it on his calendar. Jason didn’t want the squirrel furs to go to waste so he decided to make a hat out of the furs to match his coat. As for the fate of the rest of the furs, they would be sold to those that wish to buy them.
The next day was a bright, sunny Saturday afternoon, and as Jason woke up, he looked around, and finally turned on the television. He watched a scary movie about giant killer spiders until around 6 o’clock. He laughed to himself about giant killing animals as he got dressed and went downstairs. Jason grabbed a package of pop tarts and his gun, and went outside for a stroll. He ate his cherry pop tarts as he walked, searching for a little, furry squirrel that could amuse him.
There! Jason spotted one and quickly hid behind some bushes. He cocked his gun and waited. BAM! Just as every other victim of Jason’s, the squirrel froze for a moment, and then dropped dead onto the cold ground.
“Yeah that’s what I thought you measly little ball of fuzz! Gotcha!” Jason said to the dead squirrel that lay before him on the ground.
Then Jason heard a noise from the bushes. It was darker now and he wondered if it was someone playing a joke on him.
“Come out now. You in the bushes, yeah I heard you. Get out here where I can see ya,” shouted Jason.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared of who or what might be in the bushes. He thought about the movie with the giant killer spiders. Jason shuddered.
“Fine, stay in the bushes then. I’m going home,” Jason shouted.
Just as Jason took a step, there was a rustling in the bushes. He stopped and began to breathe hard. He checked behind him, but nothing was there. This is nonsense; he thought to himself, I am going to go see who is in there. He turned around and walked towards the bushes. He spread the bushes apart and looked, but there was nothing there. Nothing at all! Ha! I’m going crazy, he thought to himself.
He shook his head and turned around only to see a giant animal towering over him. It was brown and had a big fuzzy tail. The eyes of it were red with anger and long nails that could gash anything in a second. His eyes got wide.
“AHHHHHHHHHH!” screamed Jason.
It was a giant squirrel! The squirrel snatched the gun away from Jason and smacked him over the head with it. Jason fell to the ground, still screaming. He tried to get up, but his hands kept slipping and he couldn’t manage to get to his feet. The squirrel hit Jason on the head repeatedly attempting to knock him unconscious. Finally Jason got to his feet and turned to start running. BAM! Jason was smacked on the head with the gun butt so hard that he fell and lay on the ground with his brown hair…bloody.
His sight went in and out….the giant squirrel getting closer and closer. It started to throw sticks, berries, rocks, and other such things at Jason. Jason’s head was throbbing and he wanted to run away. Finally the worst had come. The squirrel picked up the gun. BAM!
Jason woke up screaming and he jumped out of his bed. He spotted his gun resting on his desk. He grabbed it and threw it out of the window and heard it crash onto the sidewalk below.
Jason’s father looked out the front window and ran up the stairs.
“Jason what the devil are you doing? I buy you this nice gun for Christmas and three days later you throw it out the window?” his father yelled.
Jason just stared at him, still afraid and with wide eyes. His back was against the wall along with his hands looking like he had seen a ghost. His father gave him an “I don’t want to know” look, turned, and quietly closed the door behind him.
