Tag Archives: Writing

Incorporated Slaughter

Harold was accustomed to confined spaces, having lived in a prison space his entire life. First with his siblings when he was but a youngling and now in his single solitary space that grew lonelier by the day. He never quite knew the reasoning behind his imprisonment nor was he aware that he was in fact imprisoned at such an early age. But like all naïve children Harold became aware of the injustices of the world and found out that he was a part of one. Because he was born different Harold was stripped of his freedom and forced to live a life of confinement.

He peered out every day from his only view, a small crack in the wall, to see others roaming freely and experiencing the world’s offerings as frequently as they wished. He longed to explore the unknown and the unexperienced and with every passer by from his small cracked view Harold felt a pang of jealousy and yearning. His dreams, when not interrupted by night terrors, were vividly imaginative worlds of explorative abundance. New tastes, sights, smells and other sensations were found at every turn and in every nook and cranny. Harold’s dreams were his only means of escape from his dismal life and if he were somehow deprived of them too, Harold thought that he would soon die with his last robbed freedom.

Harold knew little of his enslavers except that they often joked with one another about his situation as if it were some masterful joke that they were greatly benefiting from. He resented them with every ounce of his being and when he wasn’t dreaming of epic journeys Harold would turn the tables and take the place of his enslavers, treating them exactly like he was treated. Sometimes in these dreams the cruelest enslaver, locked in the smallest of spaces, would look up at Harold, who was now much larger, and plead for compassion. Harold would look down and laugh but this laugh was not of enjoyment it was a disgusting cold laugh that would immediately wake Harold up, sweating and panting. This was a night terror and it scared Harold to imagine himself like them.

One day, during his normal routine of switching between dreams and watching the world outside his crack, Harold was startled as his prison space was opened up. The enslaver outside beckoned Harold to follow him, which he did, though not without trepidation. He could never trust these cruel beings. As he turned from his confinement he saw that the other prisoners were also being let out of their spaces then placed in a long line. Harold grew anxious as he was led to the end of the line where he and the others were continually hit and slapped and forced to follow as it slowly progressed further and further onwards.

Harold’s anxiety grew until a burst of light so magnificent and warm suddenly hit him. Harold looked up and saw a yellow circle in the sky. It hurt his eyes to stare but it was such a wondrous and welcoming sight that the discomfort didn’t matter to him. Tears streamed down his face as a soft weeping started up from the prisoners. The world was beautiful and at last they were experiencing it. Harold looked down and found his vision had been blurred from the warm circle, he also noticed that the line was being led into another building across from the prison spaces and could only make out the word “rhouse” from the sign at the top of the entrance. Mesmerized with everything that was happening, Harold followed on.

Later that night a truck was loaded up with many packages from the “rhouse” building. Sammy, a young prisoner, peered on from her prison space as the engine revved into life. A light shone onto the side panel revealing the logo “Simpson & Farley Meat Co. – Fresh Pork”. Sammy watched until the truck faded into the night then, with a soft grunt, turned to her siblings and went to sleep. That night she dreamed she was the truck driver and drove off into the countryside on an epic journey.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Short Story