Day 1,291

I remember when I was five my mother accidentally trod on one of the kittens. Strange how something so small could have so much blood inside it, I thought so at least. That was when she first showed me what we do when we make a mistake.

We pry off the floorboards in the basement, we dig deep and bury them there. We pour a little liquid limestone on top to hide the smell from predators and then we nail the floor down as if nothing had ever happened there. The blood was covered with a thick layer of varnish that father never even noticed.

So I buried all my mistakes from failed homework to burnt food to the first of many bullies. Mother only found out when she went to bury one of her mistakes and end her failing marriage. Father wouldn't fit under the floor for all the mistakes I'd already left there.