April 13, 2008
By Andrea Smith, East Northport, NY

Thorn’s children are hungry. They are sitting in the burrow shivering. Hours ago his wife had gone out to find food for his family. She never came back. He knows he must leave his children to find food, or they will all die. He says goodbye to his children. They are all so young, so cold.
“Daddy, will you come back?” asked little Angle.
“Of course I will, sweetie”, Thorn answers. He knows this is a lie. Thorn looked Calderon. Calderon is the oldest of his kids, but still very young. He knows that if his dad disappears he would have to try to keep the family alive. He knew he could never do it. Thorn looked back at his kids. This would be the last time he ever saw them. He fluff up his fur, Thorn knows it will be cold outside. He pokes his head out of the hard cold ground. He used his ears to listen. No one is there, no one is coming. Quickly and quietly, he jumps from his burrow. He moves fast across the ground with his long, strong legs. Food is the only thing going through his mind as he runs through the forest looking for something to eat. Most of his family’s food has been taken by the big folk. The big and ugly ones that captured his brother, and ate him. He tried to hear again with his long ears. Wait, you hear something. It’s a…human.
“This is a nice one. Yes it is! Ha, ha!” Thorn heard the human say. There he is, Thorn could see him. The big one is holding something, a gun and an animal. Thorn’s wife. His wife is in this man’s hand, dead. Thorn felt sick, he couldn’t move on. The hunter spots him. BANG! Thorn can’t see feel or hear. He is dead. His children will most likely die too. All eight of them.

Where is the story? There is none. Life and nature are being destroyed everyday. But why should you care? It’s just a bunny. But, what of that bunny was your sister, or brother? If your mother died, why should we care? It’s not my mom. Because she is part of our species. We are all living on this planet together, as one. Things die; always, but why make them go any earlier then they have too? Everyone should have a chance. Whether they are our species, or a bunny. Everyone should live. Nobody gets a second chance.

So where’s the story? Why isn’t it happy? Because that’s life. And death is never happy.

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