Kindergarten Murder

Learning about yourself is one of the most rewarding parts of living. Finding that piece of information that helps you understand yourself more feels like finding a missing puzzle piece. It is the biggest breath of fresh air. I learned at a very young age that I could take things too far, but it would be years before I would come to understand what to do with that information. I just knew that I would always have to be careful when sharing my darkest moment.

Playing outside after school was a favorite past time. I enjoyed almost everything about it. My friends all around, a game of baseball going, and the sound of someone screaming “Car!” when its time to clear the street are some of my favorite memories. The only thing I didn’t care for when it came to playing outdoors was this kid that was particularly mean to smaller kids. I was five years old and could tell that this kid was only bullying the smaller kids like my twin brother. He is my twin, but those two minutes I spent on this earth before him clearly made me the wiser of the two. This girl, a few grades ahead of us, would get the best of my brother daily. She would tell him the craziest stories and he would believe it without a second thought.

There was the usual trip him while he’s walking by, making the other kids laugh at his absolutely normal features like freckles and missing baby teeth, and holding his toys above his head to make him jump. One day, this bully was on a roll. She was sitting on the curb with my brother telling him this crazy story. I listened as she explained to him that she got new braces, while licking what was clearly bubble gum stuck to her teeth. At this time I was really concerned that my equal would ponder such foolishness for even a second, but then the situation took a turn. In the middle of her circle of lies to confuse my brother, she dropped his handheld video game and shattered the screen. Easy, maybe slightly costly fix these days, but In 1996 it was literally the end of the world to a five year old boy. I watched as my brother cried yet again at the hands of this neighborhood terrorist, as she laughed while turning his world upside down. She picked it up and told him to just ask for another one for Christmas. I shot her the biggest bird with my tiny middle finger, called her some ugly names, and walked my brother inside.

I could not stand the fact that she could do such horrible things and there was nothing we could do about it. I really didn’t care about her daily routine, but having no remorse for breaking my brother’s most prized possession told my little brain that she was not a good person, and something must be done about it. The first thing I did was logical. I told my parents. The whole talk to her parents was as weird as possible, and they didn’t even offer to pay for it. My innocent mind believed that this was not justice, and sure enough, the terror continued just days later. I knew I would have to come up with a plan on my own if I ever wanted to play outside in peace again.

Remember the movie Matilda? My favorite then and now! It came out that year and is probably why I had the do it yourself approach when it came to punishing this bully. I thought that if my parents talked to her parents and nothing changed, she had to go away. I began to think of how I could make her disappear, but it didn’t feel like I was plotting a murder. I don’t recall processing a decision of shooting or stabbing, but I eventually arrived at poison, and tried to think of ways to execute the deed. I remember thinking that I had to do this without getting in trouble, because after all, it was her that was the trouble maker.

Days went by and I found myself slowly resisting the urge to make my neighbor disappear. Without a sure way to transmit this poison I hadn’t got my hands on yet, there was no point in disappointing myself with the idea of a pleasant day outside. Just as I had put the treacherous thoughts to the back of my mind, a shoe box caught my eye. Not the box itself, but the little packet that read “Do not eat”. I didn’t know exactly what those little packs were for, but I knew you weren’t supposed to put the contents in your mouth. I still don’t know what would happen if you ingest the gel beads in the packs, but at the time “Do not eat” to me meant do not eat because you will die. This was it, I had my weapon, and began to formulate a plan.

Thinking of ways to get this girl to eat what I thought was deadly poison made me uneasy about the whole thing, but I knew what had to be done. I eventually developed a plan involving a smooth “switch-a-roo”. I took a box of Nerds and emptied the contents, put the gel beads in it and sealed it back shut. If this girl could get my brother to believe that the gum on her teeth were braces, she would at least be interested in hearing a story about the new flavor of clear Nerds that just came out. All I needed was for her to swallow once, and my troubles would be over, so I thought.

A few days later, I saw my window of opportunity. A bully, alone in her driveway, looking for some trouble to start, and there I was with my pack of clear “Nerds”. I asked her to come into the street to share my candy. This girl was mean, but not stupid, so the invitation alone was sketchy to begin with. Her stroll into the middle of the circle we lived in seemed like forever, but I’m grateful it was long enough for me to envision what would happen next. In my vision I saw a girl I had known for more than three years foaming at the mouth, shaking on the ground as I waited for her to die. It was that moment, seconds before execution, that I opened the two-sided candy box to the side that was filled with the strawberry flavored candy, instead of the not so deadly poison. I watched as she enjoyed the treat, not knowing how close to death she actually was. I felt empowered because I had control. Knowing that I could get her to ingest a substance, her destiny was in my hands. Neighborhood kids started coming from around the corner, and I knew I had made the right decision. I immediately thought “What if I had done it and other kids came around, where would I hide the body, and who would help me move it?”. My solid plan was now full of holes, and I needed some time to think.

My bedtime routine was a blur that evening. Sulking instead of playing in the tub and tossing and turning while deciding if my choice to abort the mission was the right one. I was aware that my plan was not of good character, but it was my heart that realized what I was about to do was not the solution to my problem. I realized that what I had been dreaming of doing was heartless, and not the person I wanted to be. I wanted the daily interactions of the neighborhood bully to be over for good, but not by murder in broad daylight. Understanding what almost went down gave me a sense of closure. I felt good about not killing this child, but I felt better knowing that if I wanted to, I could. I feel like that moment gave me real power. I felt like nobody could get away with hurting me or my family, because if I needed to, I would end their life.

I sat on this story for almost a decade before I told anyone, because I couldn’t imagine the face of anyone I loved helping me through my thoughts instead of doing what anyone else would do with someone who attempted murder. I finally found the courage to tell my mother, and she explained to me that it was good that I made the right decision. She further explained that what I had done was set my moral boundaries. I had decided in my mind that ending a life could sometimes be necessary, but not over a broken video game. To this day I am so glad I didn’t give that girl an upset stomach, but it is very much unsettling that my initial plan, was to become a kindergarten murderer.