It happened so fast. Right before my eyes, my hand was gone. So fast. I didn’t do anything to provoke the beast gulping down my hand. I was just playing. Running my fingers along its smooth back. Just playing.
All of my senses are on high alert except for my hearing. Low murmurs all around me, and then I hear someone faintly yelling. “Shut it down! Shut it down!” I recognize the voice and look over. The yelling is coming from my mom, and the person being yelled at is starring at me in horror. Then I know its bad. When a person you don’t even know looks at you like that, you know it must be really bad. The look she had painted on her face was indescribable.
I can feel its mental teeth biting into my skin. I am scared, crying and so scared. It felt like hours, years even, but the creature calmed down and slowed to a stop. I pull my hand out of its jaws while my mom picks me up. I look down and see tiny traces of blood trickling out of my open wound. The Zookeeper brings me ice and expresses his deepest apologies. It all happened so fast. And now, there is only a scar. Just a shiny, tan scar to remind me everyday, not to play on conveyor belts.