Every night and almost every morning I sleep in this cold gray basement. I’ve been here for six years now only to go outside when I was told I could. It all began when I was young playing with my brothers, sisters, and my mother. All of the sudden somebody grabbed me and I was taken to a dark car. I was terrified and didn’t understand why this would happen to me. I scratched someone, but I couldn’t break free. Then we arrived at the home of these mysterious people that had taken me. They wanted me to go upstairs. They all had bright happy faces, like they were excited that I was there. They loved me, I could tell, but I didn’t know how I felt about them.
The next morning I explored the house, everything was so much bigger than my previous house. They let me roam where I wanted, because they knew I couldn’t escape and so did I. There were two large doors with a double lock and the windows were almost impossible for me to break through, so I gave up trying to leave. After a couple of weeks, I had begun to accept that this is my new home and I’d never see my mother again. They didn’t hurt me and they were very kind, but I was still a little careful by them. The little girl that lived with them played with me all the time, but sometimes she would make me angry and I wouldn’t want to play anymore. One day I found some food on the ground it looked really good and it was new. They didn’t feed my anything different it was always the same thing; it was too unchanged for me. I ate it, and I probably shouldn’t have, but it was delectable and I loved it, even my real family didn’t feed me something so wonderful. I wanted more.
The next morning I didn’t feel very good and spewed the food out on the ground. It was an uncomfortable and disgusting feeling. I decided I wouldn’t eat anymore of that food I found, but ended up repeating myself in the close future, because the hunger got the best of me. The basement isn’t so bad now, it’s become my home. The people let me upstairs sometimes and I get to lie on the couch and watch T.V with them. I usually fall asleep, so I miss most of what there watching.
A few weeks have passed, but I won’t forget the one day, when they brought me back into the car. I was taken to man who poked me with a rather sharp painful needle. I haven’t seen the people in awhile did they leave me? With him?! I was slightly angry that they would pass me off to someone so horrible! I woke up with a pain in my bladder area. It hurt a lot, and I felt extremely weak. I feel asleep, and didn’t wake up till I heard a rattle on the outside of my cage. The put me in a cage! I was furious and wanted out. My stomach was extremely bloated and looked disgusting with a scar. I woke up and the people showed up. I was never so happy to see them and get back into that dark horrible car.
I couldn’t do much the next few weeks, whatever happened there made me really weak. The girl would want to play with me, but I didn’t have any energy to play so I would just lie down and took l so many naps. Not knowing how long I was in this trance, I finally woke up one day and was out of it. My stomach was huge and flabby. I hated it, but got over it as time went on.
I think they have a strange fetish of brushing my hair. The young girl takes me outside and brushes me for about twenty minutes, but I don’t like it and try to break away. A few times I fought back, but she held me down. I didn’t understand why. The young girl communicates with me a lot, but I don’t always understand what she’s saying since I was taken from my family so young. I can make out a few words. Such as, food, good, play, and brush, but the little girl talks to fast for me to understand. I feel bad, but sometimes I drift off to sleep while she is talking to me.
It appears they are my family now, and I’m stuck with them. They haven’t hurt me, and appear to like me, so I don’t hate them. Although, I’m still cautious about going back into that car. One day, the slightly older young girl from before, brought a friend over to visit. They wanted to play with me, and took me to what they called “The Porch.” I didn’t like it in there and they seemed to want to trap me. I was very frightened and scratched the young guest. Regretful, I ran away and hid from them, and hoping they weren’t angry.
