My widowed sister-in-law brought home two birds, one big and one small, saying they would make pets for my daughter.
After looking them up, I found out they were predatory vultures. I told her to release them at once before they hurt someone.
But the mother vulture seemed to understand me. It stared at me with piercing eyes and let out a hoarse cry.
From then on, it held a grudge against me. Every day, it dropped bloody chicken bones into my bowl and even took the chance to peck out my eyes.
I called the forestry department to capture the vultures, but my sister-in-law secretly damaged the cage so they could escape.
Later, she said I couldn't see well and volunteered to take my daughter out to play. They happened to run into a flock of vultures.
My daughter's neck was pecked, her artery torn and bleeding without end. The smell of blood drew more and more vultures.
I threw myself forward to protect my daughter, but we were both torn to pieces by the flock.
Not a single part of our bodies was left intact.
When I opened my eyes again, my sister-in-law was holding up the cage for me to see.
This time, I was going to make her suffer, too.
