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Having a strict mother, I could never have any pet of any kind ever which a huge problem for me has was because I was an animal lover. One day when I was 7, my 9-year-old brother brought home two mice for a school project. He left the box on the shelf while he went to get a more secure container. I looked in the box, fell in love with the first mouse who poked his head up and scooped him out of the box, closed it back up and ran to my room. He had grey fur with a white patch in between his eyes, and I named him Diamond. At 7 yrs old I didn't know what to do really but I did know to feed it and give it water. The only place I had for it was my little kid’s combination safe, but it made a fine home, and I used a bottle apparently for a water bowl. He had plenty of tissue to make a bed and I brought him out every day to play. I couldn't wait to get home from school to play with Diamond. This went on for about a week. One day I came home from school, ran straight for my pet and opened the safe door. When I looked inside I was horrified to find there was no mouse! I searched everywhere not understanding how he could old have gotten out! I called and searched and crawled and cried but I couldn’t find him anywhere. Then the phone rang. In my 7-year-old mind, I swear it was some kind stranger calling to tell me they'd found my mouse and he was safe and sound! Instead it was my brother. He had a weird tone in his voice, asking if I had a mouse missing. I was happy and frantic and shouted “Yes! Where is it? Do you know? Did you find him? Is he OK?” “Yeah, he's okay, I got him right here.” My brother said. “Okay Bring him home!” I said, super excitedly. “Well, there's a problem. He's dead. I put him in a jar with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol and he couldn’t breathe, and he died. It was great. You should have seen him fight for his life!” He said because it was my lesson for taking his mouse, he paid money for it and I stole it and kept it a secret. I cursed him with every curse I knew at 7 years old while screaming and crying like my best friend had just died. I hated him for a long time after that.

    My younger brother has always been tiresome. One day I brought two mice home for a school project and he stole one! I just looked away for a second to get a container and one mouse was gone as my brother went to his room. It was so obvious that he stole it that it wasn’t even funny. The only question I had now was where he was hiding it. It had to be some were in his room, so I searched it while he was out every day to no success. This went on for a few days when I finally found the mouse in his toy safe. I was going to just take it, but I decided to teach him a little lesson about stealing. I took the mouse with me to school and released it in the woods behind the school after class. Then I went to go hang out with my friends. It wasn’t long till I got a frantic call from my brother. I asked him. “Hey bro, do you have a mouse missing?” He was happy and frantic as he shouted “Yes! Where is it? Do you know? Did you find him? Is he okay?” “Yeah, he's okay, I got him right here.” “Okay bring him home!” he said. I covered my mouth to hold back my laughter as I told him. “Well, there's a problem. He's dead. I put him in a jar with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol and he couldn’t breathe, and he died. It was great. You should have seen him fight for his life! This is what you get for taking my stuff!” He used curse words I didn’t even know he knew and I hung up on him. I started laughing uncontrollably and fell on the floor. He had an annoying attitude with me for a long time after that.