Story of a Predator

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: April 24, 2017

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Submitted: April 24, 2017



Story of a Predator 

I was barely 6 years old when I first went to the butcher shop with my father to help him skin the animals. Khurd, the village where I spent my early childhood, children as young as me and as old as 12-15 years assisted their fathers in farming and butchery, the two only professions.

I left my village and moved to the nearby city at the age of 8 with my mother when my father died due to the overdose of alcohol. My mother approached a lot of people in the city to get some work. But she was denied all sort of work and jobs because she lost her left eye, nose, one of the ears and had severely damaged mouth due to the unfortunate incident, where the fire broke down in my house one afternoon and burnt down my entire house into ashes. I don't remember the details of the incident very clearly as I was just two years old then.

We were jobless and without food and shelter for 11 days when one evening, roaming around the railway station I saw a couple struggling to carry their luggage. I offered them my help and carried their luggage to their house. They gave me 5 rupees in return and asked my whereabouts. Having melted with emotions they asked me to move in along with my mother as servants.

The old couple insisted to be called as Amma and Appa to which I readily agreed. Amma and Appa had 5 dogs, 2 rabbits and a cat who they treated as their own children. Gradually we all became a family.

Amma and Appa had one very strange habit. They used to lock all of us inside the house every time they went for grocery shopping. Once when they went out for shopping, they never returned. Both my mother and I waited for them for 20 days but they did not come back. I still do not know what happened to them. 

We were running out of food to eat. When all the jars were emptied and there was nothing to eat, I had an urge to kill the cat and eat her. For the same purpose I picked up the cat and brought her to the kitchen. On hearing the noise my mother walked in. In the process of calming her down, I accidentally poked her right eye with the knife and she started to cry in pain as the blood flushed out of her eyes. Soon the words of my father began to resonate in my ears. Son, we kill these animals to give them relief, he would say. Without a second thought I stabbed my mother in stomach three times to ease her pain. I then quietly skinned the cat and ate her. As the days passed I ate my pets one by one. 

By the time the dead body of my mother began to rot and the foul smell attracted the people to otherwise isolated house. The neighbours took no time in handing me over to the police, stating that I am dangerous to the society. Since I was merely 8 years old then, on account of murdering my mother and killing my pets brutally I was sent to the juvenile home, where I spent 2 years. After I served my sentence, the authority gave my responsibility to the orphanage house.

Lots of couple came every day to adopt children among one of us. The owner of the orphanage grew closer to me and always showed her motherly affection towards me. She was afraid that no family would adopt me knowing my history so she purposely never told anybody about my past. Within six months due to my good conduct I was being adopted by my foster parents.

Today on my 12th birthday I have come here to the pet shop with my foster parents to take home 5 dogs, 2 rabbits and a cat as my birthday present.

© Copyright 2018 Anusha Rastogi. All rights reserved.

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