When I was little, our next-door-neighbors had one of those plastic, wading pools in their backyard. Their son couldn't have been older than four and they'd often let him splash around in it unattended. One day I was playing in my own yard and this little boy was in his pool. To this day, I can't really say what drew my attention to him. He was a lot younger than me, so it wasn't like we played together or anything. But something caused me to look over into his yard nonetheless. In retrospect, I believe it was probably the sounds, but that's just a logical assumption. I can't remember what I heard. Only what I saw.
What I saw horrified me and the images have haunted me my entire life. This little, blonde-haired, bare-chested boy was sitting in his pool with a drenched, thrashing kitten in his left hand and a screwdriver in his right, repeatedly stabbing the poor thing. He wasn't angry. He wasn't emotional in any way. He was simply...blank.