Shooting Cows

February 7, 2010
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The orchard was in full darkness. Apples hung from each tree like dangly earrings. The smell of fresh cut grass filled the air as the horses grazed in dark the pasture. The farmhouse, from the outside, seemed like any other farmhouse with its crisp red paint and white trim. As I walked around the perimeter, I saw streams of luminous light flowing through the windows. As I walked to the front door of the house, I could feel a beat in my step when I realized there was music in my ears. Where was it coming from? I looked around in confusion as I thought to myself, “could it really be coming from inside the house?” Impossible, even though there is nothing around in the middle of nowhere, I don't see how music can be coming from the inside of a barnyard.
I walked back to the field where cows are supposed to belong! I could feel hot tears running down the sides of my face as I remember the sight of what I thought were my friends, dancing with all the girl cows. They didn’t even invite me to the festivities. I was all alone in the darkness of the field. It was distressing, the feeling of seclusion from the other cows. In the middle all my grief, I could hear a moaning echo from behind one of the apple trees. “Hello,” I called. I heard it again, but louder this time. The sound was sickening, like a dying animal. I crept over to the tree. It became colder and colder the closer I got. I could feel the bumps on my hide rising as my heart raced. I poked my head around the tree. Nothing was there. I gave a sighed in relief as my heart beat slowed.
I was thinking about what I had observed earlier and had almost completely forgotten about the weird noises now. I wasn’t crying anymore, but pondering upon why they would do such a thing and how I could get back at them. “It does no good,” I heard. I jerked my head up, now standing in a prepared but scared position. It was the same raspy voice and coming from behind the apple tree again. “Leave m-me alone,” I cried as my voice cracked. “Do it now,” said the voice, this time from behind me, ”shoot Bobby now” “Do what now?” I asked, in shock that someone would want to shoot me, but not realizing that they really would. “Don’t think, just do,” it said. “No, please don't shoot!” I yelled, scared stiff. My throat burned, and I tried to run, but I couldn’t move. What ever it was that spoke to me had done something, but I couldn’t figure out what. I tried to scream, but nothing would come out. It held my throat shut and I couldn’t breathe. Everything started to go hazy, but I felt relaxed now. I laid down and blackness enclosed around me.
“Where am I? What’s going on?” I asked as I woke up, trying to remember what happened the night before. Or had it been the night before? I couldn’t remember. For all I knew it could have been one week or even a year. I couldn’t see anything. The room I was in was awfully bright so I had a hard time opening my eyes. “Bobby’s waking; we better shoot him again,” Said a familiar voice. “No! Please don't shoot me! Please don't shoot…” but it was too late. It shot me right in the side. I felt it pierce my hide, and I lay there again as everything went hazy and the exceptionally bright room slowly became dark.
I woke up, but this time remembering everything except how I got here in the first place. Scrambling to my hooves, I fell to the ground realizing I was on a table. It was the same room as before with the bright lights that I knocked to the floor as I was getting up. Now I could see everything clearly because the lights weren’t shining in my eyes anymore. I looked around as my heart raced, still startled from the fall. There he stood right in front of me, shocked and wide-eyed. I took a good long look at him, not expecting what I saw. He was old wrinkly man with white hair and an unshaven face. He wore a green ball cap with a deer on it, old blue jeans, and a white coat that draped to his knees. It had some kind of pink stains all over it and looked like it hadn’t been washed in a couple of weeks. I had to get out of here and there was only one way that I knew of. I lowered my head and stamped my hooves. The old man grabbed for what appeared to be a dart gun lying on the table, but before he could even touch it, I had him on the ground. He was motionless and there was a little blood on his head, but not enough to do much damage. “Now, how to get out of this room,” I asked my self. I looked around and saw a door. I didn’t know how to open it, but I had seen people do it before. There was a silver knob on the side and I tried to remember how the humans used it. I clenched the knob with my teeth and pushed… nothing. I tried pulling on it… still nothing. “Maybe if I twist it,” I told my self. I did so and the door swung open.
I peered out into a huge room that seemed almost the size of the pasture I used to graze in and eat grass from. Thinking about the farm made me homesick, so I tried to stop. The room had all white walls and slippery floors. There were metal racks with pink strips of some substance everywhere. It was loud inside as the pink things moved around on the racks. It smelled of raw food inside, but I didn’t mind it. I grazed around looking for a way out, only to find more racks and more pink things. There were a few people in the factory, but none of them noticed me. They were all to busy staring at and inspecting the pink stuff. It was weird because they were all dressed like the man I had knocked down from the small room, in white coats with pink stains on them that all came down to their knees.
After awhile of walking through the room that seemed endless, I finally came to another door with the same silver handle as before and gripped it with my teeth, twisted, and pulled the door open successfully. “Huh? Where am I?” I asked surprised and unaware of my surrounds. I never knew a house could be so tall or so many houses could be this close together. This new place was grand and intimidating at the same time. The houses looked like they were made of glass; like it was just one big window and they were so tall that it seemed like they could touch the clouds. Sounds seemed to be coming from everywhere and it smelled of gas and cooked food. There were people everywhere walking on a small, but terrifically long rock that stretched forever. The people around me screamed, and ran away from me. There were cars moving on another rock that was black and had white lines all over it.
I decided to take a stroll on the rock that the people were walking on. I didn’t know where I was going, but it didn’t matter. I was curious as to why there were so many people in one place and why they were scared of me that I completely forgot about everything and wanted to see more of this novel place. Everywhere I went people would run away from me like I was some kind of monster or something. My favorite part of the whole place was this big green statue of a woman wearing a robe, holding fire, and reading a book at the same time. It was amazing, and I wish I could have stayed forever, but some men dressed in blue chased me for a long time, until one of them shot me. I wasn’t scared though because I've been shot twice before where everything gets foggy and you get really tired. It was the same as before. I felt it hit me and stopped, looked down where it hit, and fell asleep.
“Ahhhh,” I said to my self as I woke up, “I love the smell of fresh grass.” I heard a horse whiney from a distance. I opened my eyes and hopped to my feet. I saw apple trees all around and the farmhouse I caught everyone dancing with out me. “HOME!!!” I yelled enthusiastically, “I’m home! I’m really home!” I saw the other cows, grazing among themselves, lift their heads in excitement. “But I thought he went to the slaughter house,” mumbled the other cows, “How can…?” I didn’t walk over to them because I didn’t know what they would think of me, so I just walked around the field remembering all the fond memories I had here with my old buddies. After awhile, one of my old friends came up to me. “Hey Bobby, we just wanted to say were sorry for not inviting you to that party a few years ago and we would really love it if you would be our friends again,” he apologize. “Of course,” I said as I accepted my friend’s apology. I never went back to the apple tree where I first got shoot, but that was only because I got invited to all the parties from then on.

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