This post is going to be different from every other post I’ve put up here before. I have three big things I need to address. I’m writing this manly as an apology to my sister.
1.) I would like to say sorry for the comment I posted on that entry last night. I was writing is as a monotone voice in my head. I didn’t mean it the way you took it. It was nice of you to write a memorial for her, but I didn’t want you too. I guess after everyone kept apologising to me and asking if I was alright, I grew tired of it. Like I didn’t want anything to do with it at all. I didn’t mean to make you upset. And thank you for deleting it by the way. It made me feel a little better. But then I felt worse when you said you were upset. I’m sorry, I meant nothing by it.
2.) This one is for anyone who is completely clueless as to what I’m talking about.
Yesterday, at about 11 a.m. I went to go and clean my hamster’s cage. Her name is Cali, I got her last year about February I think. A few weeks or so after I got her, my sister’s cat knocked her cage down a few times. My mom took her to the vet, it turned out she had a pinched back. She had lost the use of her back legs. Still she survived. This particular morning I noticed her was stuck in the grates of her cage. I figured I could get her out because this wasn’t the first time it happened. I couldn’t, she was jammed in there. I asked my sister for help. She said to take her to dad. I did, and he cut the grate in which she was stuck in. Cali was bleeding. Dad said she was dying. I started to cry. My sister kept telling me it wasn’t my fault. I just kept saying ‘I’m sorry’ to her, Cali. I was holding her, trying to get her to drink some water. She would take a little, but then spit it up. She was becoming really still, and with her that was never something we were used to. She started to get cold, not moving, not taking any water. My mom came home, a while after my sister left to go to school. My mom suggested I put her in a smaller box than her cage. She said she probably wouldn’t make it through the night. I already knew. It was about six p.m. I looked over at the box next to me at my desk. I checked to see if she was okay, but she didn’t respond. I tried a couple of times and nothing. I think I cried all I was going to when I first realized what was going to happen. I put the lid over her, slid on my shoes and went outside to the back yard. I put her under the gazebo we had while I went to dig her grave. I tried one place by the big tree in out garden, but I hit a root. I moved to the back, right near the fence. It was good. During that, my mom, dad, and sister came home while I was digging. My sister suggested I bury her next to her cat, but I put her in the back, near the fence. My dad and sister went inside. My mom went to the gazebo and opened the box. I went over to her when I was finished, she was looking in the box. She handed it to me. I put it in the hole, and covered her. My mom kept telling me she was in a better place, and asking me if I was okay.
3.) I think what I wrote as a comment an my sister’s blog had to do with all of this. I was frustrated with myself. Maybe if I went to clean her cage earlier, then I could have stopped her from getting caught and she’d be alive right now. I’m tired of hearing everyone ask me if I’m alright. Yes, I am. Stop asking. And I was plain feat up with mom saying she was in a better place. I know that. I hate it when people tell me something I already know. That has to be in my top three pet peeves. I just wanted to forget about her, straighten my head out. But then my sister posted that blog and I read it, I posted a comment correcting her on a couple things and trying to tell her how I feel. But so far everyone thinks they know how I feel. Well they don’t. If they did then they’d stop asking. My mom wouldn’t have said anything about it. I would have been able to dig her grave and bury her by myself. Mom wouldn’t have been there. I’d be left alone and people would just leave it as it is. What’s done is done. I can’t go back and stop it. I know I’m not going to have a pet of my own for a while. Maybe a fish or two after a while, but not for a while. And it just sucks, I finally get things sorted out with my best friend after a fight, and now my hamster dies. What’s that gonna look like when I’m asked about my spring break in one of my classes? “And Torri, what did you do over spring break?” “I learned what it feels like to be a grave digger for about twenty minutes.” “You killed someone!” “No. My hamster died.”
Yeah, sure. ‘Cause I’m totally going to do that. I just want people to understand something. I feel things much different than the average person. We all feel things differently, but take a look through my eyes and walk a mile or two in my shoes. Then tell me something to make me feel better. If anyone who loves me does then they’ll leave it and not bring it up again. I wanna get over this and move on with my life. I miss her, but I’m willing to move on. I just need the ability to do that. And if I can’t in my own house, well we have a few problems here don’t cha think?