Based on a true story
The world was not what I had imagined. When I was born, I was welcomed by a moving cold metal surface and cries of several alarmed babies. Immediately, I sensed the confusion and panic that filled the air around me. Not quite understanding the situation, I instinctively joined the cries. "Momma! Momma!" I tried to scramble around, but my coordination was off, which made me bump into those around me. Yet, even if I had better coordination, I would still end up running into one of the multitude of bodies. We were so closely packed that there were babies stacked on top of one another like a can of sardines.
As time passed and the cold, menacing metal continued to move us along, the fear settled down, but the confusion lingered. The absence of wails did not last long because a gloved hand appeared and handled us roughly by flipping us over and checking for something. Occasionally, an unlucky victim would be "chosen" and chucked down a chute. As a result, I nearly fainted when I saw the ruthless hand looming over me. I shrieked and screeched. My breath was ragged. My heart was beating rapidly. My short feet were frantically moving me anywhere but where I was now. Giving up, I lay on the cool metal, closing my eyes tightly. I accepted my fate. However, as soon as I thought that, the baby next to me was grabbed roughly. Guiltily, I felt a flush of relief run through me. The gloved hand wrapped itself completely around him. Barely audible, I heard his forelimbs crack. Continuing the action, they probed him, flipped him upside down before tossing him carelessly into the loud chute that emitted loud, grinding noises. Then, he was no more.
Before I had a chance to mull over the horrific event, the moving metal surface disappeared from under us. Painfully, I dropped into a cup-like container and a clamp squeezed my head tightly to keep me in place. Now dangling from the clamp, I writhed around, trying to get loose. The baby hanging on the clamp next to mine let out a scream of agony that sent chills down my spine. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the cause of the scream-half of its mouth had been cut off with a scalding, dull blade. Now knowing what was to come, I pushed my body to the limits and tried my hardest to escape but to no avail. My attempts were feeble compared to the strong machine. The next few seconds were pure and unbearable torture.
I wanted to be dead.
Before the blade came into contact, I could feel the heat rising off of it. My entire body screamed bloody murder when the edge came down, hacking off half of my mouth. Even when the procedure was completed, the pain continued to sear throughout my body with no mercy. Little did I know that this was only the beginning.
We were all carelessly dumped into many orange crates, which were loaded onto numerous large trucks. Similar to before, there was very little space to move around. I received a mouthful of feet. The drive was bumpy and extremely long for my standards, but my timing was not the most accurate. Many children cried nonstop. I was exhausted, flustered, and frightened. I craved sleep and kindness. Of course, I got the exact opposite.
When we arrived to our destination, the crates we were in were sloppily yanked out. My left shoulder was sore from being pressed into the walls of the crate for so long. All around me the cries increased in volume with my own joining in. Two men, as tall as towers, leered at us.
"Dang! These babies are downright purty," said the man on the right with a Southern accent. His eyes glinted maliciously as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"C'mon, we better stick them in the house," said other man.
Right away, they began to close in around our crate. I was not sure how it happened, but somehow a baby was able to successfully get out of the crate. I watched with jealously as she started running to escape. My envious feelings were soon replaced by shock, and cold sweat broke out on my skin. The man with a malicious eye glint casually walked to the fleeing baby. His steps were enormous compared to hers.
