There was one thing he loved dearly and made him happy. Rabbit, Rabbit was his pet rabbit. He was a thick, plushy soft rabbit. He had the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen on a rabbit, but they were beautiful. He was gray and soft as any teddy bear. His ears would lean back on his head while his nose would seem to sniff constantly. Of all the times he has played with Rabbit, he never tried to hop away or hide. He was very friendly and trusting. At night, he would put Rabbit in his holder and secure him for the night. He did not want Rabbit to get lost or in trouble for doing something he should not.
Now we said happy, or once did, dinner was always a surprise, He never knew how it would go. She was a good cook and he enjoyed dinner on the nights his father was home. This night he was not. He had not been able to find Rabbit since he got home from school and wondered where he was. He knew Rabbit liked to hide but eventually always came out of hiding as if to say, “Here I am” This night he did not. He had this feeling inside him, a worrisome feeling but wasn’t sure what or why it was. She was being oddly pleasant and nice, and he did not know what to make of it. She had called him to dinner, and he could smell it from where he sat. Seemed like beef stew from where he sat as he watched her pour it over rice with carrots. She brought it over to the table along with a glass of water and sat beside him. His head was slightly down as he pointed his eyes upward and glanced at her, “water, no hot sauce? “He thought to himself. He picked up his fork and started eating. It was pleasant, no screaming, yelling, or slapping this night. The meat was softer than he was used to, but with the sauce and carrots, it tasted great. “He had better eat as fast as he could,” he thought before she switches moods. All the while she would look at him and smile, not in a loving way, it was more like, if you only knew.
As he continued to eat, she started making small talk, “Do you like it?” “Is it good”? Since when did she ever care how dinner ever tasted to him, he thought to himself. He was almost done with his dinner, and for once he was not wanting to throw up. He was down to his last spoon or two when she asked again, “Is it good, did you enjoy it”? Yes, he responded as he chewed on his last bites. Well, I am glad she said, because it’s your rabbit you just ate, and I’m glad you enjoyed it. No…No… he said as he shook his head as if trembling. That was not rabbit he said, he is hiding like he always does, you’re lying! That is your rabbit you just ate, and you killed it she said. His eyes bulged and watered with tears that would not come out. His mouth was wide open as if he wanted to scream but could not. Finally, he wailed, Rabbit, no, Rabbit. “So Pendejo, stop crying,” she said, stop crying now! Get up and do the dishes. He got up from the table sobbing silently to himself, and muttered over and over as he cried, Rabbit, Rabbit.