Back in grade school, we had this kid named Sebastian in our class. Sebastian was an ogre of a child, about six foot five weighing in at a flabby two fifty. Sebastian had some sort of mental condition. We never said much about it until the drooling began. At first it was a random drop every few minutes or so, but it progressed into a constant spout, like a urine stream one would expect to be released by a man who had consumed seventy five gallons of cheap beer.
Some of the kids would throw things at Sebastian, but he wouldn't react at all, not even the time we knocked him across the side of the head with a hockey stick. His drool cup fell off of it's strap and onto Nick Prosevo though, that I remember. I think he contracted autism from that, or so the loud-mouthed girls in the class used to say.
One summer, while the whole class was in assembly, we all heard what was, with no question, Sebastian asking to be killed. Every child in the room grabbed a blunt object and started to beat Sebastian until his drool turned bloody.
We spent weeks in therapy, the lot of us, and then we were awarded with a citation for humanity. Looking back on it, it was a sort of strange thing being applauded for killing the retarded, but the girls seemed to like being with heroes, so we milked it pretty good.
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