December 9, 2009
By Anonymous

Thanksgiving, it is the worst day of the whole year for us turkeys. Every year the farmer picks some of us to be killed. Last year twenty of my friends were killed in this massacre. I am five years old and at my biggest point in my growth. It is a very depressing holiday because all year the farmer feeds us and the when this misery rolls around, we have to watch our backs.

I remember last year, one of my friend’s brother was plucked out of the pen. Nobody will speak of what happened to him because it was so gruesome. I heard that he had his wings ripped off his body and his head chopped off of his shoulders. This is not happening to me. I am not loosing my life just so that those stinky humans can enjoy me with a side of cranberry sauce. No way. This year I’m making a fly for it.

“Fellow turkeys, gather around, can I have your attention please,” I stammered. I have never spoken in front of a large audience before. “I have very important news I would like to share with all of you.”

“What is all this commotion about Tim?” questioned Todd, my best friend.

“Well, as you all know the end is near for many of our friends and family due to the horrible day of Thanksgiving. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not sitting here awaiting my death. I’m busting out of here,” I established to the pen. I heard a lot of gasping in the crowd, but I also saw many of my friends with grins on their beaks. “All who is willing to come with me gobble,” I stated firmly. Out of nowhere, came the loudest gobble I have ever heard. It came from Tina turkey, a girl who I knew from school. I blushed, and then heard some more gobbles. By the time the sun fell down, I had the whole pen gobbling. That night, as I sat on my special patch of grass, I felt like something amazing was going to happen.

I woke up the next morning feeling great. It was Thanksgiving Day. As I peered through the farmer’s window, I could see him getting his clothes on and his huge knife out. I started to get worms in my stomach. The moment I saw the blade, I rallied up all of the turkeys to the center of the pen. As soon as the farmer stepped outside his house, I gave the signal to takeoff out of the pen. The moment we were in the air, I felt proud and relieved. The thing that happened next tore my heart in two. “Harold!!!!!!!” screamed the farmer’s wife, “Get your gun.” As soon as I heard this I nearly fell out of the sky. I told the gang to fly a little faster, but I never told them why. They were about to find out. “BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I heard. “BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I heard again. When I turned around, it was too late. The last I saw of my father was him tumbling to the ground. We couldn’t risk going back to help him so that was the end for him.

Ever since that day, I have learned two important things. One, to be grateful that I am here writing my story, and two, to have a vegetarian farmer.

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