I open my eyes, being abruptly brought out of sleep by a rough tapping on my shoulder. The man who woke me up left my cell as suddenly as he had arrived. I sat up and looked around, still not entirely used to my surroundings. I was in a wide open cell, in some kind of large outdoor shelter. The floor was hardened dirt softened with dry, scratchy hay. It was not at all comfortable, it was miracle that I was even able to get any sleep since I had been kidnapped. Only two days ago, I was ambushed while strolling with my two children. I struggled, for my freedom and theirs, but suddenly the world went black and I awoke here. Since I arrived I hadn't left this small cell, and I had no idea where my children where or how they were doing. Whenever my kidnapper walked past my cell at night, I tried to ask him where my children where, but he never answered, never even acknowledged that I was speaking to him.
But as he came in again, I had another opportunity to ask about my children's whereabouts. I had to know if they were okay, I couldn't go another day without knowing they were safe. Yet before I got a chance to ask, a rope was thrown around my neck and tightened. The man pulled roughly, dragging me and forcing me to walk out of the cell. Fear settled in me as I tried to resist, and he tightened it even further, nearly cutting off my air supply. As he pulled me out I realized that I wasn't the only one in here. There were so many cells, going back so far that I couldn't even see the end. Many other kidnappers pulled others out of cells similar to mine and led us towards a narrow dirty white hallway. I tried to look at others, my heart nearly out of my chest as I saw how other people looked. Dirty. Hungry. Miserable in their acceptance of what was to come. And we were all going to the same place. That narrow hallway, where startled, loud cries seem to come from. I pulled back, refusing to be led to my death. I couldn't die, this couldn't happen. We were obviously going to be killed in whatever room lay at the end of hallway, but why? I tried to break the rope, to hurt my kidnapper, anything to free myself from this death march. I had to see my children again, my life could not end without knowing that they were safe.
My struggle caught the attention of other kidnappers, and together four of them pulled me closer to the hallway, the opposite of where I wanted to go. I cried out as the rope became impossibly tight around my neck, my fate being sealed. I was shoved so hard into the room that I fell down. I looked up and I was sure that my heart stopped instantly from the horror I saw in the room at the end of the hallway. Carcasses everywhere. Their bodies were split wide open, and their innards were spilled across the floor. Some had their brains removed from their skulls and placed on plates, as if they were about to be prepared for food. And that was when I lost it. I screamed and kicked out, managing to get one of my assailants in the face. He backed up, and a little window of hope to escape opened up, but was slammed shut quickly when another one took his place and they worked together to tie me down. I looked up just in time to watch the sunlight glint off the knife that came down and slit my throat with ease.
Death came quickly, and I could do nothing but watch as my own blood rushed out of my throat. My last thought was of my children, if I would ever see them again.
When Farmer Henry walked into the abattoir, he met Garry, the owner holding a bandage up to his cheek. Garry glared at him as the farmer walked up to him. "What happened?" He asked, concern written across his face. "Your stupid bull nearly knocked me out trying to break free." Garry complained removing the bandage to let Henry see the large, red, gash on his cheek. "It took four of my men to hold him down and finish the job. They are never this feisty." Henry looked down at the carcass of the bull, then back up at Garry. "Is this the bull that you say cried out every night?" "Yes. I'm glad he's gone. He kept the other cows up with all his noise." Farmer Henry looked down at the bull one last time, and walked away.
©Mae Lee
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