She wanted to see its insides.
While the other kids were cringing in revulsion or spouting clichés about the moral implications of dissection, Marion was wishing they’d shut up so Mr. Harvey could hand out the scalpels. With fascination glistening in every careful incision, her partner squealed, just as disgusted by Marion as she was by the dead cat with its flesh peeled open like a jacket. But Marion didn’t care about Tonya’s opinion. She didn’t care about the whispers calling her a “serial killer in training”. She was just curious, and knowing that, she also somehow knew that her curiosity made her better than Tonya. The final cut revealed a perfectly framed interior, and Marion was amazed. The cat’s innards were so similar to her own, and that knowledge made her happy. It was as if learning anatomy was the same as getting to know God.