I would not consider Lennie and I friends, no, definitely not friends, we were way much more than just friends. Lennie did not deserve to die. He was like a child. He was innocent. Every day I spent with that fool, and yet I do not regret a single moment. Most of you picture Lennie as this big guy. Well, I’ll admit to you, Lennie was huge, but so was his heart.
He could do the work of three men without even breaking a sweat, and he would not complain a single time. He would do anything I said because he had complete faith in me. Lennie was so trustworthy that you could tell him to do anything like walk into that river, and he would do it, no questions asked. He was a good man too.
You could tell Lennie all of your secrets and know that he would never repeat them to anyone. Lennie loved to feel smooth things; it always made a smile stretch across his face when he felt things that were smooth. He would try to keep mice as pets, but he always ended up killing them because he would pet them to hard. He was too dangerous and he needed me to help keep him stay out of trouble.
Lennie and I shared a dream of someday buying our own farm. We would have lived together and grown our own crops. He would always get so excited about being able to take care of rabbits that we had planned to get and feeding them alfalfa. I never really believed in the farm but he would always make me tell the story of us on it and his excitement from it started to get me excited in it. It seemed like we would be able to follow through with this dream, but just he couldn’t help himself.
People never could really befriend Lennie. I was his best friend. I was his only friend. He was an outcast among other people. He did not know what he was doing when he killed Curley’s wife. It was an accident. Everyone has accidents. His was just had too big of one, and this one unfortunately cost him his life.
Lennie did not deserve to die. I had no other choice but to kill him myself. I