I arrived home yesterday with the house all in a flurry. There was a police car out front (my better half’s vehicle, that is) and I was informed immediately upon coming into the kitchen that there’d been a homicide. My better half was fully engrossed in the investigation, going over the actual scene of the crime, piecing together what bits he could to determine how and why this grotesque crime was perpetrated, and ultimately, why a young life was snatched away. Sadly, it was true. Sylvia’s life had been taken alright… and way too soon. They say (whoever “they” are is yet to be determined) that a vast majority of victims of a homicide are known to their killer. And the scene unfolding at our house would prove that statement to be true. The main suspect was none other than “Nanna”.

Yes, Nanna. Loving grandmother by day, calculating villain by supper.

From what I gleaned from the police reports Nanna claims that she had gone outside to smoke one of her “cancer sticks”. Whilst walking to her spot to sit down, she accidentally knocked over one of Amy’s plastic garden buckets. She said that it was with her next step that she heard a “crunch” sound and discovered in horror that she’d crushed Sylvia the snail to death. Poor Sylvia never had a chance. Nanna claims that she lifted up her foot and saw that Sylvia was now stuck to the bottom of her slipper. She said she was overcome with fear, guilt and (understandably) dry heaves at the horrific sight and called police right away.

Mind you, the one who was completely distraught over this was Amy, my 6 year old step-daughter. She slowly, and gloomily emerged from the basement, toting a piece of paper on which she’d drawn a picture on each side. One side contained a picture of the victim and herself before the grisly murder, and on the other side a picture of her very sad self at the what-appeared-to-be burial site. It was very detailed and accurate, as there in the picture was Sylvia (albeit, smiling), in her burial plot.

I’ve never met Sylvia and truth be known, I’ve never even heard of her until her untimely death. I’m not even sure how Sylvia came to live/reside/die at our house. From the description I got of her, I’m guessing she looks like this…

This would pretty much be exactly what a forensic artist would draw up based on Amy’s description of Sylvia. (the blush, hat and pearl necklace were added upon request of the victim’s family.)

It was indeed a very sad evening at our house as we each sat around and reminisced about how great Sylvia’s life had been. (You have no idea how hard it is to do this based on a slimy creature you’ve never met. Had I met her, well then, I could have talked for hours. But I had nothing.)

Nanna being taken away for questioning… (2nd degree murder perhaps?)

I guess it could have been worse. Say for example, if Sylvia and her family ended up like this…

Appetizers anyone?

Just so you know, we’ve decided to drop the charges against Nanna (negligence causing death). And if anyone would like to attend, we will be holding a service for Sylvia this weekend. In lieu of flowers, please make donations to the Save the Snails Foundation whose sole purpose is in protecting snails from such horrific and violent crimes.

Rest in peace Sylvia, wish I had have tasted  KNOWN, you.

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