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Rated: E · Short Story · Self Help · #1706997
Based on a true story of a 13 year old and a crab destined to be the dinner of her family.
I looked up from my dinner, which consisted of rice, pork, and rib soup. Ma, washing the dishes, suddenly emmited a high pitched sound between a yelp and a scream. We crowded over to her and saw a grey crab standing in the middle of the sink, holding up its claws in self defense. "It must be the crab that i lost!" Ma explained, trying unsuccessfully to grab the crab with chopsticks, "i just bought them at the market today, the others are in the steamer already. I'm going to save this crab for Teresa when she comes back." I turned my head to the steamer, and saw a couple of dead crabs in there, the grey armor-like skin already orange. I couldn't help wrinkling my nose, seafood wasn't really my favorite dish.

realizing something, I asked Ma, "How do you kill it before they steam?" Dad managed to put the crab into a bin with his chopsticks and replied "you don't, they go to sleep in the steamer before dying, its like a sauna." Dad then said something about how the crabs don't even need to pay for it as some kind of joke. I was thirteen, definitely not stupid enough to fall for that. Parents can lie to six year olds that their steak comes from trees, but not to a teenager.

"They die of heat, don't they? You can't really sleep when the tempurature is over the boiling point."

"No, honey, they do go to sleep, just like a sauna."

I ignored that silly reply, "Why can't you just kill them before putting the crabs into the steamer?"

I was a fairly imaginative child, and i went through an imaginary torture of being steamed to death. It HAD to hurt alot, and for a longer time too. Why can't Ma just kill them first to end their misery in a better way?

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Wouldn't it be better for the crab there," i pointed to te crab in the bin, which was struggling hopelessly to get out, "If we just, you know, kill it first instead of starving it for another day just to get steamed to death in the end?" The crab probably didn't eat for much more than a day. I didn't like deciding the fate of another creature, I was told to look at all life as equal, and even though i eat meat, i would take even the smallest bug outside instead of whacking it with a newspaper roll. Even though, wasn't it better for the crab?

"sure, honey, we can just put it in the fridge, it slowly goes to sleep then and goes peacefully."

I knew there was the possibility and decided to put my trust in Ma's honesty, until:

"Xiao-Hua, put it in the freezer then." Dad commented.

"Oh, no James, it actually says on the internet that it is better preserved in the cooler, even better than water. when you take them out it doesn't move at first, but then it defrosts and kind of 'revives'. They say that when you put crabs in the water, they move around and uses up some of their energy and meat."

"MOM! You lied to me?!" I was flabbergasted. I always believed that my mom tells the truth. Didn't mom care about the crab's feelings?

"Sorry, dear..." Mom cut out some slices of watermelon for us.

I stared at the watermelon, my appetite sompletely gone. Was starvation jabbing at the crab's belly, as his simple instincts told him to keep on living for a future that will never come? Was his mind freezing over, his body going into a short hibernation before dying of heat? Suddenly, I just couldn't help it and tears streamed down my face. For the first time, i cried for a crab, for its numbered, miserable days.

Ma saw, and she understood. At least, she understood the innocence of my childhood was being ruined. She saw what I was thinking (which seemed completely illogical but innocent to her), that the crab can't be freed, we can't let it live, so why don't we give it less misery by ending its limited, painful hours sooner?

Ma took the crab out of the cooler and banged on its head wih some random cooking utensil. My tears flowed out even more fluently. I felt a tug at my heart when it died. But what made me cry harder was that i just decided the death of a creature, and it seemed horrid.

Dad didn't look happy.

"OH, SO YOU JUST KILL THE CRAB? NOW YOU JUST MURDERED A LIVING CREATURE! IF YOU CARE ABOUT LIFE, WHY DID YOU EAT YOUR PORK TONIGHT? YOU CAN STOP EATING NOW, STOP EATING EVERYTHING FROM NOW ON. IF YOU EAT RICE, THEN DOESN'T THAT MEAN YOU KILLED THE RICE, DOESN'T THAT MEAN YOU KILL CORN PLANTS WHEN YOU EAT CORN?" Even more madly he bellowed, "WHEN I GROW OLD AND SICK, AND WHEN I CAN'T SPEAK ANYMORE, AND WHEN I AM GOING TO DIE SOON, WILL YOU JUST KILL ME, TO END MY MISERY WHEN......"

I was already upset, and now Dad was yelling at me. I couldn't understand what i did wrong. My usually stubborness collapsed, now i was just sad, and tired, and confused over life in general. I went to my bedroom and expressed my confusion in the only way i know for now --------to write.

Then i wondered if i was going to laugh at all this when i grow up, if i would look at my attempt to "rescue" a crab was just a childish play.

When I grow up and laugh about an innocent try to express care for all life.
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