Duck Hunting

January 18, 2013
By Anonymous

The closet door in front of me suddenly opens with a loud squeak, letting the light pour into the small, dark filled room. Two pale white hand reach in and grabs a hold of me, I try to resist by leaning towards the corners avoiding getting taken but it does not work.

The man keeps a tight grip around me, avoiding letting me go. I am carried through a large house and out into the frost covered front yard of the house. A giant black dog is following behind me and the man as we step towards a black pick-up truck that is parked out-front.

The truck door opens, followed by the giant black dog, who leaps into the back seat without hesitation. I am then get carried around and thrown in to the way back of the truck which is filled with decoys, ammunition, and camoflouge clothing. Shivers run down my barrel as I touch the cold bed of the truck.

As we drive, I bounce off the bed of the truck and against the walls, trying to hold on as hard as I can. After an exhausting thirty minutes, the truck comes to a stop. A door opens, letting out the footsteps which are starting to come for me-again.

The tailgate makes a loud squeak as it opens, the same pale white hands that grabbed me before reach in and take me away once again. I am dragged through tall grass and into a muggy, wet swamp. The swamp is filled with various scents and smells that protrude to small animals but not me.

I am then sat down next to the man who carried me out here. It’s cold and wet; birds of all species sing which ricochets off the water’s surface. The man answers their calls with a call of his own which sounds almost identical to eachother.

Three small figures appear to be flying toward us, as I look for more confirmation of my first thought I am suddenly picked up again. The man puts his face against mine and he squeezes me until I yell with his large, gorilla-like hands.

“Boom”! “Bang”!

I scream with all my might, releasing all the energy and power I have out my barrel. The three small figures take a nose dive into the cold murky water surrounded by lily pads.

The giant black dog takes off into the water like he’s being chased by a serial killer. He does his usual search, sniffing the water mixed in with him dunking his head underwater for a few seconds. The man is standing up pointing and gesturing to the dog on the whereabouts of the three ducks that fell out of the sky. I can tell he is getting frustrated with the dog because he is not going where he is gesturing. After a tiresome full sixty minutes the man finally gives up and calls the dog back. I am then picked up and carried to the truck as the man curses under his breath putting me in a awkward situation. We reach the truck and the man grabs a hold of me and tosses me in the cold hard back of the truck and lets me rattle against the sides all the way home.

A sudden stop signals that we’ve made it home. The man grabs me from the trucks and starts walking across the frosted over yard. The warm sun shines on my black metal giving me a comfortable sensation. We step through the house until we reach the closet I was taken from. He opens the dark filled room and leans me inside against the wall, and this is where I shall stay, until the next hunt.

The author's comments:
its a real story from my personal experience

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!