The Bunny Killer

When I was a senior in high school, I left my house in the pitch black before 6 am every morning, and traveled to a town 20 miles away to attend Early Morning Seminary.

One fateful morning started out like any ordinary day. I pulled out of my driveway and onto the road that would eventually become the highway leading me out of town.

As I left the edge of town and accelerated to the highest speed I felt I could get away with, a slight movement off the road caught my eye. I let off the gas and peered into the dark to see a little bunny that ran into the road in front of me, got scared by my headlights, and started to dart back away from my oncoming car.

Though I had hit my brakes by this point, it was evident that the bunny was moving safely to the side of the road and would soon disapear into the woods where it came from.

I assumed wrong.

Just as it was running full speed to the side of the road, suddenly it caught the sight of headlights coming from the opposite direction, stopped in it's tracks, then almost instantly did an about face and ran with all of it's might......

right into the path of my front tire.

I screamed.

I shivered as I felt the bump of the front tire, followed by the bump of the second tire.

And in a split second, both of our lives where changed forever. (Well, technically mine was changed and it's was ended.)

Then I started to cry. As I drove, I cried and cried and cried. Then I bawled. Then after 15 minutes of crying, I realized I was nearly there and needed to pull myself together.

I pulled slowly into the parking lot at church. I put my car in park and sat there for a few more minutes trying to let my eyes and face have a chance to dry.

Finally I felt composed enough to walk into class which I was sure was already well in session.

I walked in as inconspicuously as I could, but apparently my face gave it all away.

My teacher looked at me and with a very worried and concerned tone asked, "What is wrong?"

The faucets turned on again.

"I HIT a BUNNY" I cried. And then I cried and cried and cried again.

At first it was quiet and then the snickers started and soon all out laughter. I wasn't offended because I new how ridiculous I looked and sounded.

I relived the story and afterwards I seemed to be the only one who did not find any humor in the situation.

And from then on, I was dubbed, "The Bunny Killer" and the name has stuck. To this day, when I visit my home ward, there is always that one person (or two or three) who has the audacity to say hello to me -not by name- but as, Bunny Killer.

What's really annoying is when the younger kids who weren't even youth at the time know the story and taunt me mercilessly about it.

A week or two after that fateful incident, I walked out of Seminary to find a stuffed Easter rabbit tied to my bumper with a sign that said "Bunny Killer". Because I couldn't get the ropes loose, I had to drive to school with it stuck to my car and endure the interrogating questions that incurred there.

(I got back at the culprit of that cruel prank by inviting him to prom that year even though he was on crutches from having just had surgery on his leg. It gave me some feeling of restitution every time I insisted we dance!)

So, even years later I am still haunted by that incident.

I bring all of this up, because for the last two weeks, I had a sixteen year old girl from church staying with me while her parents were out of town. Before the sun came up each morning, I drove her the short distance across town so that she too could attend early morning seminary.

In the last few days that I drove her to seminary, I was rudely reminded of that painful part of my past by a bunny with a death wish. Not once, but twice the little devil darted out of a set of bushes and headed straight for my moving tires.

The first time, I slammed on my brakes until I came to a complete stop. "You might be late to seminary, because I'm not moving until this bunny runs back where it came from."

We sat for several minutes until it aimlessly hopped down the street.

Two mornings later, it darted for my car again. Suicidal obviously. I hit my brakes again and just sat there again.

I think it was mocking me. Maybe it was playing chicken. But, it finally gave up and moved on it's way, and I went on mine.

I think it got the last laugh though because I've had several nightmares about bunnies in the last few days......maybe it's the ghost of bunnies past................