Why I Killed My Best Friend

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A wild animal charges into the room and knocks me to the floor before I know what’s hit me. All I see is an eye glaring fiercely from beneath a tuft of blond hair.

“Niaaar!” it roars. “I’m a tiger! I’ll tear you to shreds!”

The first graders and I have been sitting and drawing in a circle on the floor, as we do every afternoon. I’ve just gotten them under control; my reward is the dry, monotonous scuffing of pencils on paper. Natasha, one of the shyest girls, starts to shriek when she sees me flat on my back on the floor. Panos shapes his fingers into a gun and lets out a string of incoherent sounds, something between machine gun fire and spitting. The tiger pounces on him and bites the barrel of his gun. While he’s recovering from the shock, it lunges at me again, trying out a new set of roars. I look over and see Saroglou, the principal, standing in the door, one hand over her heart.

“My Lord, Maria! She slipped right through my hands. .”

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