Myfictions Blog

Autobiography of a Lamb

Autobiography of a Lamb

Hey buddy, what's up? Seems you are as fit as fiddle .Hello. Where are you looking? Are you confused and pondering where the voice is coming from? Just see right here on the screen. Yes! Now you saw me. What's going on?Oops! Sorry. I must have bored you with my continuous talks. I'm Molly, the lamb. Will you be my friend? There is smile on your face and this is the silent agreement. I know it. You're a human being and human beings are really the most amazing and civilized creatures on the earth. What? Do you think that I'm flattering? Nah,buddy .I'm serious. Still doubting me? Let me tell you a story of my experience when I used to be in close connection with those civilized beings. Are you ready to hear it? Once again the illumination on your face with a faint smile has given the silent consent. Then what's the delay about? Let me give it a kick.

Photo by Kat Jayne from Pexels

I was born to a farmer's house in Rossendale Valley, England. My master's name was Robert Jones. He had a farm which stretched over a very large area where other animals were also reared. When I was born I still recall that my master's son was very happy to have us. I mean along with me were two of my siblings-Patt and Newa.My father and mother were the first sheep brought to that farm and we were their first product. Because of this, we were given special attention as well as name. This made me feel special and so did my siblings. The farm was a cosmopolitan universe comprising of different species of animals. My young master, the master's son, was very careful to all of us. He was very loving and caring guy. When I was hardly two or three days, he carried me in his arms, caressed me, stroked me and gave me green grass along with seasonal fruits that were grown there. This made me feel that if there was a heaven on the earth, it would be no wrong in saying that it was that farm house. The master and young master were our Guardian Angel.

      I often jumped with joy in that garden. Sometimes I would be busy enjoying the grass while sometimes I would be with my siblings merry making in my own way. And you know the area for every animal was in the farm was separate. Sometimes I encroached upon their area stealthily as well to have a look at their life. Every time I looked at them I felt glad and proud that mine was the best life. My bleating gave my little master a different joy and he also used to copy me in an attempt to become more playful and closer to me.

   As I grew up, I became fonder of that place and my young master. Once when I was three, I was roaming in my area. Meanwhile I saw some new faces in the farm and they had got something on their hand. My young master guided them to our shed and as before I started jumping with joy. I went near my young master but this time I was shocked. Instead of being caressed and stroked gently, one of the new faces took hold of me by neck, caught my legs and lay me on the ground. What the hell it was? He at once took out a machine and started shearing the wool of my body. This process continued with my siblings as well as other sheep except my mother and father. When the job was done, the wool was loaded in a van. I saw my little master receiving money and knew the plot behind the shearing. Why did our young master let those new faces do that with us? I kept on pondering about it. I saw that the other sheep looked like a body whose clothes were stripped off and pretty sure I also looked the same. I hated my naked body devoid of wool. I thought about my little master again. He had bestowed so much blessings upon me that I considered that event a minor one in the light of those blessings. Very soon I recovered the hair on my body. Days passed and I grew up into a sturdy sheep and my charm for my little master remained the same. Nevertheless, I had seen some changing attributes of my young master for me. I used to go near him with a playful mind but he started driving me away. He no longer enjoyed my company nor did he feed me with grass and fruits as he used to do before. Why had he changed that way? Most probably I wasn't as charming now as I was in my childhood days. It could also be possible that his temperament had changed now as he had also grown up to a mature man. Maybe he was no longer fascinated with animals or he must have found his joy in some other things. But it was not like that as I had seen him playing with other newly born lambs and he started bestowing them the same love that he had upon me when I was like them. I cursed myself for being grown up. Are only the babies deserving of being loved? Or was some selfishness hidden in that love? These questions hit my mind badly. Nevertheless, my bewilderment and awestruck situation would make no any difference.

       Soon I stopped enjoying in the farmhouse. My young master had started whipping me from time to time. The excitement I used to get seeing him in my childhood days had now changed into fear. The grown-up flock was being treated cruelly than the smaller ones. One day those new faces, who had sheared us, entered the farm once again. This time they had a big truck. As before, they came to our shed and started loading the truck with sheep. Was I dreaming or was it an illusion? If only it had been true. One by one the grown-up sheep including me were pushed and even stacked in the truck like some goods. Bleating was so high that the whole farm was filled with it. Except for my mother and father, all the grown-up sheep were enclosed inside the dark truck. The other lambs, my mother, and father kept on watching us helplessly. The engine started and the journey to an unknown destination was started. The truck jerked in so many places that most of us in the truck were badly hurt. But the truck went on ceaselessly. After several hours of torturous ride, we were unloaded. As I came out, I could not see properly and neither could others. After a while, I saw that that was completely a different place which was filled with machines; a very big one. I saw a goat in one of those machines. I wondered why it was there. Was there some foodstuff? But how could foodstuffs grow in that machine? As I was lost in this thought, the goat came out in two parts. Crap! It was beheaded and it was jumping in a bloody pool! A dreadful nightmare! It was a slaughterhouse! A chill went through my spines as I realized that everyone's end was near.

Photo by Quang Nguyen Vinh from Pexels

 Suddenly I was pulled out of the flock along with some other sheep. My siblings were also in the same lot. A man came and drove us towards a cave-like place. As we stepped there, an automatic conveyor carried us towards different narrow chambers. Those chambers were locked as soon as we reached there. It turned me upside down and a man with a sharp knife approached. Without a second's delay, my throat was slit and so was of other sheep. Blood began to flow out like the water released from a dam. There were other animals like pigs, goats and so on. They were being tortured badly. Then I was beheaded and the further process started. My skin was peeled off when I was still conscious and fluttering in pain. My stomach was scissored and the entails were extracted. This happened with other sheep as well. I was put into a cutting machine which chopped off my body into pieces. A few hours later my pieces were packed and delivered to different hotels and restaurants. What about my skin? Was it also taken to a restaurant? No, obviously not. My skin is in your body. Everyone who is reading my autobiography, their body is covered with my skin in various forms. Some of you are putting it on as an expensive leather jacket, some of you as a belt, some of you as shoes while some of you are keeping money in my skin in the form of a wallet. And what about my mother? She is at the same farm with her newly born babies. The happiness of the birth of babies and the tragedy of separation with them has become a clockwork routine for her. And my little master? He is busy bestowing his love to that new lot of lambs who're unaware of the terrible future that lies concealed behind that love.

Sandeep Kattel

Blog Writer

Sandeep Kattel is a Lecturer of English at various collleges in Nepal .He has been writing stories for a long time, but he started publishing them only recently.He is also working on his two books - Family Cafe, which is a novel and another book Defying Odds Optimizing Caliber ,which is a motivational book.He is interested in writing short stories related to contemporary issues.

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