The Squirrel Story...

Continuing my assignment for class, here is the ever popular squirrel story, tackled in both first and third person perspective...

A VIVID CHILDHOOD MEMORY IN THE 1st PERSON PERSPECTIVE

I once went on this hunting trip with my dad. I wasn’t licensed to hunt big game, so I got stuck going after squirrels (of all creatures). I wasn’t really expecting to find anything, nor did I think it was a big deal, but my dad encouraged me to go and find the biggest squirrel I could… Although, he could’ve just been making fun of me (the norm for my father). After all, he was rather intoxicated for most of our hunting trip. Either way, the sun had started to set and I was told to do a sweep of the area before it got too dark. I grabbed my point twenty-two rifle and walked about fifty feet away from camp. As I was walking, I heard what sounded like something scratching a tree. I looked into a nearby tree and was met with a little, furry squirrel. Wanting to make my dad proud, I pointed my gun at the critter and squeezed the trigger. The force of the bullet knocked the woodland rodent from the tree, causing the body to fall out of eyesight, and it was getting too dark to see on my own, so I returned to camp to get a flashlight. Trekking back to my dad, I told him of my victory over a defenseless creature and how my manhood had been established. He asked where the body was and I had told him about my quest to obtain a flashlight as to find the squirrel I had shot right outside of camp. I grabbed the electronic torch and headed off towards my trophy, only to find that the body went MIA. I scoured the whole area, only to come up empty-handed. To this day I am still made fun of for shooting a non-existent squirrel, and it is jokingly blamed for most ill-deeds that occur in my life.

A VIVID CHILDHOOD MEMORY IN THE 3rd PERSON PERSPECTIVE

Michael reluctantly took up his firearm and marched away from camp. Finally being allowed to hunt on a trip with his father, the boy couldn’t help but feel as if everything he ever longed for was wrong. Sure, he had wanted a gun, and he had gotten one for Christmas when he was eight, but he had never thought he’d be given the opportunity to use it. Thinking of it more so as a trophy, Michael was now dreading the moment he ever asked for the rifle. None of that mattered though, for he was on his way to seek prey in the form of squirrels. How hunting such a small and meaningless creature would prove his manhood was beyond him, but Michael wasn’t going to give up this rite for anything. This was finally his opportunity to show his dad how much he had grown in his twelve years of life, and that he’d be a worthy successor to the name of Flanders. Granted, it wasn’t a kingdom he’d be taking over, but Michael still wanted his father to know he was a man. With that in mind he continued his search, looking for any signs of squirrels within the area. Luckily the search didn’t last too long. Upon approaching a rather large tree, Michael heard the faint sound of scratching, causing his attention to aim upward. On one of the higher branches sat a greying squirrel, complete with nut in hand. Dwelling on how his father would react to failure, Michael forced himself to push back any doubt he had regarding the death of this furry creature. Would Michael feel bad about taking the life of this small animal? Of course he would, but it’d be overshadowed by his father finally putting down his beer and accepting him as his own, rather than just a child for him to yell at in a drunken stupor. Taking aim, Michael lifted his rifle up to the squirrel, trying his hardest to keep his hand steady. Finally within his sights, the boy pulled the trigger and sent the squirrel flying out of the tree. To his distress though, Michael could barely see anything past the tree, for the sun had slowly sank away while he contemplated his decision. Racing back to camp, the boy explained to his father the event that had unfolded, and how he needed a flashlight in order to find the carcass of the assuredly deceased critter. Taking amusement from the boy’s rite of passage, his father tossed him a light and exclaimed he should enjoy himself, almost poking fun at what the boy did for his father’s approval. Back in the forest, Michael searched fervently for the body of the squirrel he had watched fall out of the tree at his own doing moments ago. Time passed by, yet the boy couldn’t find any trace of the animal he had killed, causing a weight to be both lifted and placed atop his shoulders. What if he had only grazed the squirrel, or worse, what if he never even hit it? Bringing despair up from the pit of his stomach, another thought occurred to him. What if in an attempt to appease his father he had imagined the squirrel? With the forest growing darker and no trace of the squirrel around, Michael let his mind drink in the failure he had committed, finally hanging his head in shame and trudging back to camp. He recounted the tale to his father, about how the squirrel had just vanished, and he was met with what he hated the most; laughter. His father tore his self-esteem apart, ripping it to the smallest of pieces with joke after joke. Even to this day, over ten years after the incident, Michael is still ridiculed by his friends and family about the squirrel he had “supposedly” shot, yet never recovered. And it is to this day that Michael still thinks he dreamt up the whole idea of the vanishing squirrel in the tree, if only to get his father to be proud of him for just a moment…