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Caged in India

Short story By: Zin Dar

Out of sudden inspiration to write a different type of short story it was completed faster than you can say: "Constitutional necessity substitution"

Submitted:Jul 11, 2011    Reads: 81    Comments: 15    Likes: 5   

Living my life in peace was obviously not approved of these people. I haven't killed anybody. I was shot with anaesthetics and I just woke up here in a cage. A sturdy cage for sure, because banging the bars doesn't have any effect. They laugh at me for trying.

Just because I'm in bars they are suddenly feeling so superior. I had three men on me, trying to put ropes around my arms and legs. They were scared, that's without a doubt. I made out a huge roar and that was sufficient to distance us another three metres.

What do they want anyway? I was living in the forest with my family peacefully, hunting when we needed, relaxing in the glints of sun scattering through the treetops and drinking from the river. That should be a peaceful life that no one bothers about? I did kill an Indian bison yesterday, which I enjoyed with my family. I just hope they didn't capture my family too.

I am the big male, they wouldn't possibly want the babies, would they? I notice these are Indians holding me captive. Do they want me just because I'm white? Anyone white can live peacefully in the forest! Will they sell me as a protector, decoration or maybe they just captured me for fun?

One of the captors sit beside me, stroking over my back as I lie on the side, back turned to him. "You sure are a quite unique animal, are you not? I'll be good to you and tell you what we want with you. You are a very special kind, and we want you breed with others of similar kind. You're white, and that's quite unique for your type. Didn't you notice you were always standing out in your family?"

The others laugh, but I let them. I am sure that even if I roared, they would just laugh louder. I turned my head over, making my profile visible for them all. I make a wide simper, ensuring they all see my corner teeth.

They stop laughing but remain standing, impressed, knowing that if they would have made a wrong move last night, these small spears are enough to puncture them one by one. People with their fancy narcotics doesn't fight fair, they are sneaky people. They are not willing to put up a fight, but are too focused on their so-called money.

What is money anyway? They imagine something has a value and they put a price according to what they feel like in that moment. Suddenly they take up a piece of green or blue paper labelled a random number and say: "This is how much I want that thing!" Pretty stupid, considering that paper isn't worth more than what the cost of wood and paint is.

All because of human fantasy, I sit here in a cage on my side, too drugged and caged to do anything. If they were more proud and not so cowardly, I would have shown them what this large right paw with five long sharp claws could do. They wouldn't even have had time to look death in the face, because all they would seeā€¦
would be the eye of the tiger.


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