Thursday, 14 November 2013

Quickwrite: In the Belly

Though I inevitably knew it would come, I never had thought much about this impending day. After countless hours on a small shelf of with a few companions, I had nearly forgotten my fate. Each of us there knew in the back of our minds what was to come, yet as time had passed it had become merely a distant memory of fear rather than the ever-present thought that it once was. But yet, my time had come. It was just yesterday that I was plucked from my position on that shelf, as a silent scream failed to escape my mouth. I realized in that moment what was to happen next. The truth which I had avoided for so long was finally thrown in my face.

This morning, I woke up feeling stuffed, with pain in places that seemed new to me. My insides rattled with any movement and I remembered where I was. I watched children play with glee as some strangers took me. I was strung up as a public display, a prisoner awaiting my gruesome execution. Thoughts of who I once was crossed my mind, spurred on by the sight of the children. Their joy and excitement brought me only sadness with the realization that I would never see my loved ones again, nor hear their soft laughter. I was ripped from my memories by a sharp yell from one of my captors. The children rushed over, eager to take part in what was to unfold. The first in line wore a crown, and was given a blindfold and a large club. The small crowd around me cheered with excitement as the horrible deed unfolded. Quicker than I could think, the child struck me with his weapon. Pain seared though my ribs and tears came to my eyes. Just a little longer, I thought. This would all be over soon. I cringed as blows were given, and pain surged though my body. I wanted to shout, scream, run away or anything that would stop the violence but I was bound by a heavy cord and could not escape. Alas, my day had come; the inevitable day on which they would come for me and as a cruel ritual beat me until I was no more. One final blow tore open my body, and it was all over. I was now free of my oppression and pain. It had to happen sooner or later, I knew from the beginning. Thus is the life of one like me: a piƱata.

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