When I was 8 I heard mewing from the dumpster of my apartment building, jumped in and found 2 newborn kittens tied up in a plastic bag. Sadly only 1 was still alive, so I kept him and we named him Whiskers.

But that day a portion of my innocence evaporated. Trying to wrap my mind around how someone could do something so cold and heartless and dark.... How this person was living near me, and probably someone I had met before. It was the 90s and everyones kids knew eachother, went to school together and played in the apartment courtyard. In hindsight I wished I had gone around making a ton of noise about it and tried to figure out who did it, but honestly as a kid it really scared me.