Rabid Rebecca sat on the grass. She liked to feel it’s cold, sharp shape against her skin. She quietly fingered the grass, and span it between her fingertips. When no one was looking, she quickly plucked a piece from the ground and shoved it in her mouth, gobble gobble. She munched it and crunched it, her taste buds being drowned with essence of soil and nature. 

Rebecca was sat in a small field, far away from her house and mother. Mother had made her angry, so Rebecca stormed out the house, and retreated to her safe place.

In the grass, Rebecca saw a caterpillar.

“Oh look!” she shouted to no one, “A caterpillar!”

and she proceeded to shove the caterpillar into her mouth.

She crushed it’s delicate body with her teeth.